Coin Operated
by Snowyflakes
Summary: Hyrule finds itself in a deep depression decades after industrializing and magic is now a forbidden art. When carnies come into town, Zelda Nohansen discovers a magically imbued doll housing a hero's ancient spirit. What lengths will she go to release it?
1. Gravity Plays Favorites

Coin-Operated

_For Paulie - with love, as always._

1.0

Gravity Plays Favorites

The radio cackles as the president's voice bellows through the speakers, strong, unwavering and determined. It's the voice that charmed us all. It's the voice that beguiled us. It's the voice that lied to us with its smooth tone and rich quality. It's the voice that stretched ever so slyly into our minds, our hearts. It's the voice that breathed and preached to our souls. It's the voice that sang to our desires. And we bought it. We bought that voice and the fine, colorful, handsome wrapper that came with it. Tomorrow, I'm sure, we'll all be able to see a lovely picture of that sickening smile of the president as he signed off on the documents that will be plastered all over the front pages news. The pig. The president has a very pleasing, handsome and adoring face that all the public fell in love with, but inside the man is raw, ugly and utterly detestable. We were all fooled. A woman next to me bursts into tears as the president continues his announcement of the new passage of law he'd just signed, the president's cool voice barely audible over her sobs, and someone reaches over and turns up the volume. All of us were completely fooled by this ugly man's enchanting voice.

Magic is now outlawed.

I pinch my eyes shut as I hear the president's address drift through the cackling air waves. "We are entering a new era for Hyrule! For the benefit of all the peoples within this great country, we must strive to bring ourselves up! Strive for excellence!" The president pauses in his glorious speech. "We must fight for the survival of not only ourselves, but for this great nation!"

I open my eyes. Grim and grave faces look around at one another as we continue to listen to the radio announcement. Eyes flicker nervously from face to face, each of us trying to gauge another's reaction to the address. But it's clear, that many of the feelings felt by the patrons and employees of the diner are very common, and together, we are all in this. For this moment in time, we are all brothers on the front lines, hearing our own sentence and preparing ourselves for the death march ahead of us.

The president is making a mistake. A very, very grave mistake.

He does not believe that magic is what makes Hyrule so great, what gives its people life, what gives this land and us our soul. The president believes that magic is hindering our advancement within the world, and that the need for new and better technology outweighs a simple magic trick. Now that Hyrule has become an industrialized nation with many great and fantastic machines and wondrous technology at our feet, magic is obsolete. However, in my honest opinion, it's these types of thoughts that hinder our advancement as a society. It's further driving the wedge in between the many races that reside in Hyrule. Our lives are withering under diminishing standards of quality. Our social structure is crumbling. Our culture itself is dying.

It was thought that dissolving the monarchy of the Hylian people would help bring us together, but it has slowly become increasingly known that thoughts such as that were gravely mistaken. When the monarchy was in place, Hyrule was not a country, but an empire made up of several tribes, people and governments. Between the many governments of the land were tentative and shaky alliances that threatened to crumble the whole empire. In a last ditch effort to keep peace among the people, the reigning monarchs renounced their thrones to push the Hyrulean Alliance into a democracy and under the control of a sole government. It was a risky move that proved effective in helping stabilize the country and its provinces for several decades, but the second the people put the current president in power, Hyrule was doomed.

I look around the small diner where we have all gathered, sitting on stools at the counter and in the booths that line the windows. There are very few of Zora or Goron descent and even human; the majority of us, me included, are of Hylian descent. Among us though, is one common, simple trait: fear. Fear lines every face within the diner. It flashes through every person's eyes, it's present in their sobs and their deep set frowns of worry. It eats away the inner confines of our chests like manic, rabid animals. Surprisingly, indeed, that even the humans look fearful, despite the fact that they do not have magic themselves, but the message is clear. It is very clear. With magic already becoming a rare feat in Hyrule, our future is bleak. Our future is weak. Our future has been severed from us. Our future has no hope.

Magic is the soul of Hyrule. It is what we breathe.

When Hyrule was first established eons ago, it was my race that was considered to be chosen and favored by the goddesses, for our ears were made to be long so we may listen to their holy messages. Officially speaking, the Hylian race specifically constitutes us, those with long ears. Over time however, our race, as the Gerudo, the Twili, the Goron and the Zora, have diminished greatly. Humans, the Hyruleans with rounded ears, however, have flourished in recent times. With the change in the demographics in Hyrule, came new fears, new suspicions and a new, radical hatred that breathes and steals into the hearts of the people of Hyrule.

I don't even hear the rest of the president's address as I sit at the counter of the diner. My mind is totally blank with the news. Completely blank. Gone. Dead. Even the wait staff behind the counter is unmoving and deathly still, but their attention is rapt to what the president is saying. It's a wonder they even dare to breathe. The woman next to me continues to sob into her hands, completely devastated. It's almost as if the president sucked all the living hope out of her in one fell swoop. Long pointed ears poke out from under her hat.

I stare down at my meager dinner. A sub sandwich, half-eaten, but I don't have the heart to finish eating it any longer. No. Slowly, I reach into my pocket and pull out some money and leave it on the counter beside my partially eaten Po' Boy. None of the employees even make a move for it, let alone show any sign that they've seen me set the money down. Their attentions and minds are elsewhere, and their bodies and souls breaking.

Quietly, I step out of the diner and into the empty street. My heels clack in quiet submission on the concrete as I walk. Twilight is upon the city, and a certain sadness hits my heart as I set out down the street. This despair tugs desperately within my chest, and seemingly with the shame of a sheep, I hang my head and follow my feet.

President Ghirahim continues his address without my attendance.

…

My car bounces and rolls along the dirt road on the outskirts of Castleton. My friend Malon runs Lon Lon Ranch about an hour's drive from the city with her father. Being so isolated out there, electricity has yet to run out that far, never mind a telephone line. It's been in the works for a long time, but now I have to wonder. Will anybody be willing to do the work? Especially considering the ranch's owners and their hands are all Hylian. I can only worry for her as my car chugs along the road in the still night.

Behind me, lights shine bright and neon, but just as strangely, so do lights ahead of me shine. I'm not too far from Castleton, but I had no idea the power grid stretched out even this far. I push the car forward as I drive through the field towards it in curiosity.

I put the car to rest and step out at the sight in front of me.

Men and women hoot and holler at each other as they carry out of a caravan tents and furniture. They're all laughing and enjoying themselves, setting up their encampment, as I make my way forward.

"What're you doing? Who are you?" a voice demands.

I whirl my head around in the dark, not seeing who addressed me.

Impatiently, the voice says, "Down here." I look down to see a man, maybe ten years my senior, sneering at me. He's short, but not overly so to be called a dwarf. He sniffs arrogantly at me.

"I'm sorry, I was just surprised to see lights this far out," I tell him.

"We're not open yet. Come back tomorrow," he snaps.

I hesitate to respond right away due to his cold demeanor. "I'm sorry, but I don't even know what this _is_." I wave a hand, gesturing over to the buzzing crowd setting up camp behind him.

"The carnival," he scoffs at me like I'm an idiot. "You know, bunch of travelling weirdoes that put on a show and people pay for it."

In his mop of blond hair, I see them. His ears. "You haven't gotten to hear the president's radio announcement then, have you?"

"Look lady," he says, smacking his cane onto the ground impatiently, "I don't have a lot of time. I don't have time to listen to that pretty boy president of ours blather on about taxes and debts." He sneers at me again, flapping his hands at me as if I'm some annoying bird trying to peck at his food. "Now get going! Shoo!"

"But-!"

He scowls at me. His hands continue to flap as he waves me off. "I said, come back tomorrow!"

"He's outlawed magic!" I blurt out suddenly.

The man freezes.

"What?" he exclaims, his eyes growing as wide as saucers.

"I said that magic has now been outlawed!" I shout at him desperately again. "He just announced it at six on the radio while he signed off on the documents."

The man pauses for a minute, just staring wide-eyed at me, and I can only stare back, rooted to the spot. It was as if the second I said it out of my mouth, it really made it true. It made everything so much more _final_. Then the man motions for me to follow as he turns slowly around, his hand waving at me in a beckoning manner as he begins to shuffle off to one of the already set up tents, building up speed as he goes. I hurry after him as he blows through the flaps of the pinstriped tent. It's made to be sort of a makeshift mess hall at the moment, and many of the carnies have gathered here already, chatting away with each other gaily. The small man walks briskly up to a table and slams his cane down on it, commanding attention.

The whole tent goes silent.

The man clears his throat and motions for me to come forward. "This young lady here," he shouts out to the tent, his cane impaling the ground, "has just informed me of some dire news. Is the radio up?" It's funny that he says "young lady" as if I were a road killed skunk stinking up his car.

Someone shouts out, "Not yet, but it's been unpacked!"

"Well, get it turned on!" he roars through the tent, causing jolts and flinches among some of the carnies with his bossy voice. There's a scramble of men in the back of the tent as they hurry to retrieve the radio. Hopefully the radio waves will reach this far. But if there's electricity this far out, it should pick up the radio waves from Castleton.

The small man turns to me. "Well, go on!" he says, his head nodding to the crowd within the tent.

"Excuse me?"

"Tell them what you heard!" he yells at me, and I back away a little, startled by him.

I regain my balance and look around at all the faces in the tent. They all peer at me, their interest piqued by my arrival. A stranger. An outsider. "Um…" I sputter out, and see out of the corner of my eye, the short man glaring at me. He urges me to press on. "President Ghirahim announced at six o'clock this evening that he'd signed a document outlawing all forms of magic from Hyrule."

The room stills to a dead stop as if for one second, all the heart beats in the room simultaneously skip a beat. And then time resumes. Forks clatter, jaws drops, exclamations of profanity sound out through the tent, chairs are upturned as their occupants hurl themselves to a stand; the whole tent is chaos among the carnies.

The short man screams and shouts at everybody to calm down as a couple of men return to the tent, lugging the large radio in. They exchange confused glances with each other over the scene, having not heard my announcement. A man dressed to be half-man-half-woman scurries over to them and whispers to them. The men holding the radio almost drop it, and they hastily set it up. The short man standing with the cane stomps over to them, yelling.

"Does anybody have a coin?" a feminine voice rings desperately out above the clamor in the tent.

I whirl my head around, searching.

"I need a coin!" she calls out again. "Does anybody got one?"

One man sitting down at the table next to me gruffly responds, slamming his drink down. "Dammit Ilia! Every time we give you a coin, it just goes _poof_!" he rages, and I spy the young blonde woman, Ilia, across the table from where I stand. She stares daggers into the sitting man beside me.

"Hey!" I holler out to her. I catch her attention, and I wave her over. The woman comes up to me, and I'm honestly a little surprised to see that she's wearing denim overalls instead of a dress. "How much do you need?" I ask her as roars shout from the other side of the tent where the radio has finally come to life. Many of the carnies, upon hearing that the radio is working, push past us to clamber around it. I hear the short man with the cane commanding the carnies to quit their noise so they can all hear properly.

"Any will do, it just has to be a coin," Ilia tells me, gratitude washing over her features. Her green eyes shimmer at me under the dim lights that line the tent ceiling.

"Don't give it to her," the man next to me sneers.

I huff at him, immediately deciding not to take his advice purely on his sour demeanor. "Why not? We're all on hard times now; the least anybody can do is show a little kindness, especially with this mess going on."

He snorts into his drink. "It'll just disappear; that freak _eats_ coins."

Ilia looks horrified, and she screeches at him. "Link has to know!" she snaps fiercely.

"He can find out tomorrow," the man says, waving her off. He turns to me, saying, "Don't waste your money, lass." He sips his beer and turns his attentions to the commotion down by the radio.

"Please, just ignore him," Ilia says to me as she leads me out of the tent by my arm.

I jog a little to catch up to her quick pace as she leads me through the tents and wagons of the carnies. She comes up to a small wagon and unlocks the door. Before she opens it, she turns to me and says with a small, slender hand out, "The coin."

"Oh!" I dig into the pocket of my dress and pull out a coin for her from my coin purse. I press it into her palm, and she gives me a quiet "Thank you," and pushes the door open. She beckons me inside to a dimly lit room within the wagon. There's a small bed to one side with a nightstand next to it. Two trunks sit across from the bed, one open to reveal clothing, and a tattered rug lines the floor of the wagon. Ilia steps lightly to the corner of the wagon to a man sitting in the chair as I shut the door behind me. She pushes her dirty blond locks from her face. Round ears.

Ilia looks back at me as I stand awkwardly. "Since you gave me a coin and told us all the news, I think you should at least meet Link," she says with a sad smile, nodding to the man in the chair. Despite all the troubles in the country, the man looks incredibly serene as he sleeps upright in the chair in a very refined suit. The shirt is perfectly white and the black jacket and pants look pressed and clean, the only thing that could even hint at hard times for him is the way his shaggy hair sprawls out from his head with slender ears poking out.

"Maybe we shouldn't wake him," I say softly, backing up slowly to leave the wagon. My hand flails behind me, feeling for the door knob.

Ilia laughs. The smile on her face stretches wide and she says, "Oh, he's not sleeping." She gestures at a small silver box protruding from the man's chest under his white shirt. I move my mouth to ask her what it is, when I see her place my coin into the slot at the top of the box. She backs away a little.

The coin clicks and clacks within the box, and then the sudden spur of gears sounds. The man's eyes flutter open, wide and a dark, steely blue. I yelp and jump back as I watch the man shake his limbs stiffly and mechanically. "Morning already?" he asks Ilia, and she shakes her head, gesturing at me. His head swivels over towards me, and he offers a small smile. I stiffen up against the door. What in blazes is this?

Ilia waves a hand at the mechanical man, saying, "This is Link." Her face falls slightly, but Link doesn't take his fierce gaze off of me. "Oh," she sighs. "I'm sorry; I never got your name." She laughs softly in embarrassment.

My jaw bobs. My heart pumps. My hand clutches onto the door knob for dear life.

"Don't be afraid," Ilia laughs, tickling the air around her with her voice. "He won't hurt you.

"What's your name?" Ilia asks me again, smiling encouragingly at me.

Link continues to stare me down, calculating and precise. I feel my lips smack against each other as if I was a fish out of water a few more times before I stutter out, "Zelda."

Ilia giggles. "There we go!" she exclaims happily, her smile returning once more. "Link, this is Zelda. She gave me a coin."

"Did she?" the man asks, his head swiveling to give Ilia a quick glance before moving back into my direction with that ever present soft smile. His glassy eyes bear into me as if he was reading me. Two spears striking my heart. "Zelda," he says, trying the name out on his tongue. There's just a moment, however slight, that I believe I see what I can only recall recognition flash across his face. I glance at Ilia, but if she saw anything different in him, she betrays nothing. "Thank you, Zelda."

"You're welcome," I manage to sputter out, but I'm not totally sure if it even sounds like that. I'm not even sure if I made any legible sound at all.

I glance between the coin-operated man and Ilia and realize the unnerving quality, or lack thereof, between the two. Link's glassy, fake eyes move and shift as if they were human eyes, but there's one missing trait in them that I can see in Ilia, the diner waiters and patrons, the city people and the other carnies: life. The mechanical man is just that, a machine. He moves, smiles and speaks as if he were human, but lacks the luster of life.

Link rises from the chair, his limbs moving in a slightly jerking manner as gears shift and swirl within him, and begins to button up his shirt, covering up the coin slot on his chest. He looks over at Ilia. "Where did you put my bowtie?" he asks, tugging at his jacket's lapels in an attempt to straighten them out and reshape them.

Ilia hurries over to the closed trunk and opens it to reveal men's clothing inside. She pulls out a slip of red and hands it to Link. "Here," she says, handing it to him, and Link slides it around his neck and quickly ties it.

"Is everything set up?"

At this Ilia straightens up, biting her lip. She glances between Link and me worriedly, peridot irises flickering between the corners of her eyes. "Well," she starts slowly, "something came up."

"What're you talking about?" Link asks, his brow knitting in confusion as he adjusts the cuffs of his jacket and shirt. How human is this thing?

Ilia steps back to get completely out of Link's line of vision of me. She waves at hand at me, and then her arm falls flat to her side. She bites her lip again, thinking briefly before saying quietly, "It's night, Link."

"What!" he exclaims. His face contorts into complete shock, and he turns and rips open the ratted curtains to a window above the trunks. He looks frantically out through the glass and sees nothing but the night engulfing the fields in certain darkness. "Why did you start me up then? What's wrong?" he babbles frantically.

"Um!" I sputter weakly to catch his attention.

Link whips around to face me.

"I was sitting in a diner earlier this evening when the president came on with an address," I tell him meekly as he begins to straighten up. His eyes roll over to me, piercing me once more as I give him an explanation. What in the hell have I gotten myself into? "Magic has been outlawed. He signed the document earlier this evening."

Link freezes in his movements and stares blankly at me. His glassy eyes dull over to a matte finish as he tries to soak in my words. Then his eyelids flutter to life, the glassiness returning to his cobalt eyes, and he leans towards me a little. "I'm sorry, what?" he breathes.

"Magic has been outlawed," I repeat.

The mechanical man looks at me and Ilia in pure panic. "What's that mean?" he roars. "Ilia! What am I going to do?" he cries desperately, his glassy eyes flitting wildly about.

"I'm sorry, Link, but I had to make sure you knew," she says, her voice suddenly tiny and weak. "Please calm down." She backs away slightly, folding into herself.

"Ilia!" voices shout from outside the wagon, and we all go rigid for a moment in surprise. Ilia's name rackets through the air again, and we relax, realizing that it's just the other carnies calling out into the night for her. The immediate snap of tension slackens with our realization. The carnies call again and again into the night. "Ilia!"

"I'll be back," she promises us, her voice just barely above a whisper. She gently places a comforting hand on Link's shoulder, but he doesn't even notice as he stares me down again with feral fierceness. I step aside shakily as Ilia jerks the door to the wagon open and flies out. It shuts with a resounding slam.

Link breaks his unnerving gaze and runs his fingers through his hair nervously, muttering curses to himself as he settles down on the bed. I stay rooted to the spot when he suddenly flashes a stern look in my direction. I stiffen under his gaze as he says huskily, "Your ears."

"What about them?"

"Hylian."

"Yes."

"You can do magic," he states blandly.

I bite my lip.

"You can," he breathes, ignoring my refusal to comment and my uneasiness at his accusation. "Did you know that it just falls off of you like a waterfall? There's so much."

Then with more force behind his voice, Link asks me, "What are you doing here?"

"I was on my way to Lon Lon Ranch to tell my friends of the news. It's about a forty-five minute or so drive from here," I tell him, nervously squirming a little under his stare. "Power lines don't run that far out. They probably wouldn't know for about a week what's happened otherwise."

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Link doesn't move for some time, and when he finally does, he lets his hand flop down between his knees. Hoots screech through the dark outside from the carnies. The mechanical man pats the bed next to him, and I hesitantly move to follow, giving a quick and nervous glance around the room as if some unseen eyes are judging the inappropriateness of this.

Meekly, I say in reminder (for him or for me, I don't know), smoothing the skirt of my dress, "I should be heading out to the ranch."

Link ignores my comment and says, "Ilia doesn't have any magic." His head bows as he studies his hands. He rubs his palms together, and a little voice in the back of my mind has to wonder what his faux skin must feel like. Is it like rubber? Soft and smooth? Rough like sand paper? Or does it actually resemble real skin? And what of his dirty blond hair? Was it cut from another's head? Or is it fake like his glass eyes?

"May I ask what exactly it is you are?"

Link raises his head and looks out the window across from us. Idly, he tells me, "I used to be able to do magic. Not anymore. I've been cursed for a long time now, my soul having been separated from my body."

"How have you survived?"

"Through dolls," he says simply. "My soul would be fine without a vessel of its own, but it's really a hassle. What with the floating and everything." He chuckles slightly at that thought before continuing. "Of course, I have to say, this is by far the best body I've had and one that best resembles what I originally looked like, but it only works for a certain amount of time before a new coin has to be put in."

"So… you're a coin-operated doll?" I ask him uncertainly.

He smiles, and his glass eyes slide over in their sockets to me. "I am.

"You know," he says, leaning a bit closer to me, "I used to be a rag doll. _That_ was a real pain. It takes a lot of energy to move one of those things."

I frown slightly. "So this body's easier to move in?"

"Much!" he says with much enthusiasm. "I think it's all the gears and hydraulics."

"What are hydraulics?" I ask, confused. I'd never heard of the term before.

Link waves it off though. "It's a new thing this researcher out by Lake Hylia has been working on. He's the one that actually made this body for me." He speaks with a slight hint of admiration, but then in the same strike, it's gone. He dismisses the whole notion. "I'll tell you more about it and Professor Mizuumi another time."

"But what does all that have to do with me having magic?"

"You're a quick one," he chuckles softly. Then he lets out a sigh, rubbing his palms together again as he quickly mulls over his words. "I've been travelling with this carnival for a very long time," he says pointedly and carefully. "I've come across many, many people. Some have magic, others don't. The only person that I've come across that has any competency with magic has been the fortune teller travelling with us, and even then it's not a lot.

"You make everybody pale in comparison. Magic just seeps out from you."

Amazed, I ask, "You can really see my magic?" I didn't think it was possible for magic to flow off of a person like that. Anybody that can do magic has a core in which the magic is contained. Depending on the individual, the capacity of a person's magical core will vary. The thought that magic is seeping from me, as Link put it, is a bit alarming to me.

He nods. "I'm essentially almost in the purest form anybody can take," he chuckles, trying to make a point to me, but it's over my head.

"I don't understand."

He laughs at me. "You're in a bit of shock, aren't you?"

My eyes dart around the room, just so I don't have to meet his gaze. But I can _feel_ it. By the goddesses! I can feel his eyes bearing into me. "I think so," I say with uncertainty. I mean, I _am_ talking to a coin-operated doll after all. What nonsense is this? What screwed up anachronism is he?

"Zelda, right?"

"Yes."

The corners of Link's mouth quirks. "Do you have another coin?"

"Um, yes?"

"When you wake up tomorrow, come back here," Link instructs me, taking my hands and pulling me up from the bed. His blue eyes penetrate me. He whispers to me, "Don't forget that coin."

"What if I don't want to come back?" I blurt.

"Well, that's a shame," he replies with a mischievous smile. "Then you'll never have your curiosity quenched."

When I try to stutter out a response, the mechanical man only laughs at my current inability to form speech. A new glint in his glassy eyes, he tells me, "Have courage, love, and you'll see the light."

With that, I flee the wagon and the carnival.

…

"I must be going mad, Malon!" I cry out to her.

Malon shushes me, and takes my arm. She pulls me down to sit on the bed with her, and the mattress squeaks in protest. "Calm down, calm down," she coos, rubbing my bare arm. "Just think about it for a moment," she says softly, but sternly as she gently tries to beat rational thought into me. "A lot of troupes use magic to enhance their acts, but most of them are fake, right?" I nod.

Then I sputter out, throwing myself up from the bed in a frenzy, "But this has to be _big_ magic!" My hands grapple aimlessly at the air. My heels clack on the wooden floors as I pace about. "Big and old and ancient magic!"

Malon shushes me again. "Quiet, quiet," she chides. "My father and Ingo are sleeping.

"And 'old' and 'ancient' is kind of the same thing, Zelda."

"Sorry," I quickly apologize, my arms falling to my side as I swirl to face her again. The fabric of my dress swishes at my knees as it settles down. I plop myself down next to Malon on the bed, the springs groaning under my weight.

"I really should oil this old thing," Malon chuckles.

"Thank you for letting me stay here for the night," I tell her.

Malon flashes me a smile as she rises from the bed. "It's no problem. You'll always have a place here at the ranch," she assures me as she takes one of the oil lamps from the bedside table. She moves to leave me in the bedroom, but then she pauses at the door. Her head whips around to face me, the flame of the lamp glowing in her blue eyes. "Are you going to go back tomorrow?" she asks me. Light flickers on her face.

I wring my hands nervously in my lap as I mull it over. I frown. "I don't know," I admit. "I kind of feel like I should, but at the same time… this is trouble. I'm not sure if I want to get into that sort of thing, you know?" I can hear Link in the back of my mind telling me of how my magic flows off of me. I shift a little uncomfortably at the thought, and decide against saying anything to Malon about that, as disturbing as it is. Did he tell me that to bait me into coming back to him? I bite my lip, pondering the mechanical boy's ulterior motives.

Her eyes flit down towards the flame of the oil lamp in her hand before Malon looks back at me. "Maybe," Malon says wistfully. "But then again, it seems with the president, everything is trouble." She swallows and scrunches her eyes shut for a moment before putting on a soft smile for me. "Goodnight Zelda," the redhead whispers.

"Night Malon." The door hesitantly clacks shut, and I'm left alone.

I sigh, burying my face into my hands. What am I going to do? I can ignore the whole thing, but the overwhelming feeling of _wrongness_ skitters across my skin like little skulltula. The sense of doom that I feel moves with my pulse. I'm sure that I'm not the only one feeling these types of things after seeing the horrified faces of the employees and patrons of the diner I ate at for dinner. What the coin-operated doll said to me is just as unsettling. He can _see_ my magic. Does that mean others can too? Will that mark me? Am I in some kind of danger now? A target threat to my society and culture?

But then I worry about the fact that Link used the word "seep" to describe the way he could see my magic. I close my eyes and look within. My magic appears to be perfectly contained, but that's just it. It _appears_ as though it is contained. But Link could still see it. Does that mean that it's leaking somehow? Can magic even do that? I wonder if this is what it means to become a rogue.

I pull my face from my hands and kick off my heels. Not even bothering to get out of my dress I pull back the covers of the bed and put out the remaining oil lamp on the bedside table. In the cover of darkness, I slide into the bed and huddle in the covers, feeling slightly childish. I feel as if the further I cower into the sheets and blankets of the bed, the more protected I'll be from the waking world outside. From the people. From the president. From magical coin-operated boys.

* * *

><p>And so it begins. This was actually a bit of a challenge to write, because while it is Zelda, this is a completely different Zelda from the one narrating <em>Zombie Cake<em>. They both have similar qualities, but their personalities are just so vastly different at the same time. It's a little weird to think they're both Zelda. Haha. But I'm really excited to write this. This Zelda is a lot more observant, perceptive and aware of her surroundings compared to the _Zombie Cake_ Zelda. _ZC_ Zelda mentions a lot of things, as she's observant as well, but lacks the perception at this point in time in _ZC _to really comprehend the meanings behind what she sees. It's a little refreshing to write this as well as frustrating. I went back and back to make sure this Zelda had her own voice and to set a definite tone to this. I hope I achieved it.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it so far. Let me know whatever thoughts you guys have, I'd love to hear them. I'll see you all in the next installment. Until then, peace out!

:3


	2. Flying in the Face of Science

Coin-Operated

2.0

Flying in the Face of Science

I leave Malon and Lon Lon Ranch at about noon the next day. I decided in the night not to tell her that I was going back to the carnival, and instead when we say goodbye, I tell her that I would try and visit again soon. She wishes me a safe trip home, but really, I feel like I need prayers for whatever lies in the carnival.

I lick my dry, cracked lips in anticipation as my car jogs along the road, bumping and rolling. The carnival is now in view, in another fifteen I'll reach it. Colorful tents sprawl across the land, and mechanical rides skitter and move in the field. I can see a large archway facing the road ahead of me to signify the entrance to the carnival. It flickers and pulses with light, directing all attention to it. I chew at the inside of my lip nervously as the carnival grows larger and the noises from it grow louder. It looms in the closing distance, ever taunting me. I grip the wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white.

What am I doing? What in the world am I getting myself into? This is a damned _doll_ for Dinssake! A magical doll housing a man's soul of all things. What am I supposed to say? What am I supposed to do? I admit he had me pegged, for I am very, very curious as to know what exactly he _is_. To call him just a doll is almost a little insulting, but what else am I supposed to call him?

Finally, I pull my car off the road and follow the dent in the grassy field that I'd made the night before. Throwing the car into park, I pull the keys from the ignition and fling myself out of the car and hurry to the mouth of the carnival. At the archway is the short man with the cane I'd first encountered last night. Yelling and an overall sense of bossiness seem to be routine with him. He berates a couple of the carnies for improperly setting up some equipment as I approach. They scurry away as fast as they can the second he turns round on me.

"We're not open," he states blandly, stamping his cane into the ground. He adjusts the scruff of his shirt, straightening out as he does so. "Come back tomorrow."

I frown. "Um, I was here last night," I say hesitantly. "I was the one that told you about the president's address." I can feel my voice pitch upward. What am I doing?

"Hm?" he grunts then leans in towards me to get a better look. After a minute, he finally says, "You're a lot uglier than I remember." Well, gee, thanks.

He snaps at me, "Well, what is it you want?" He backs away from me, a scowl set firmly in place on his face. How does this man live being so grumpy and negative all the time? I would think it would be exhausting. "We're closed for the day. You put us behind schedule," he accuses, finger out, but with his short stature, it only reaches my chest.

"Well," I huff, "excuse me for informing you about news of national importance."

"Hey!" he shouts abruptly. "Don't get snippy with me, lady!"

"I need to see Ilia."

He waves me off. "Come back when we're open. I only take paying customers," he tells me, turning around and begins to hobble away with one fist on his hip and the other pounding the cane into the ground.

"LISTEN!" I roar at him loud enough that he actually stops, with a flinch might I add triumphantly. His head cracks around at me. "I said, I need to see Ilia," I demand harshly, balling my fists. I can hear the knuckles crack. "I'm not leaving here until I do."

He takes a moment to continue sneering at me. It's a moment where for a second everything briefly stops as we standoff. His deep set frown never leaves his face as he tells me finally, "She's with that crazy coot, Fanadi, setting up her tent. It's that purple and gold one towards the back." With that said, he turns back around and stomps away from me like the grouch he is.

I grumble my curses at him under my breath as I make my way into the carnival, sacrificing myself for its next meal as it swallows me whole. My eyes glaze over the many tents. A purple and gold tent… Oh Goddesses, what am I doing? Little dust clouds poof up from under my heels as I stomp through the sparse grass. My head whips around, taking in all the different colorful tents and posters. I stop in front of a display of a cluster of them. One's for a man-eating cucco – I have to say, that's something that I could believe to an extent. If you enrage a cucco enough, they have no qualms about attacking. Another poster advertised a bearded woman alongside the half-man-half-woman's poster whom I'd seen in person in the mess tent last night. I pause for a second as I glaze over the posters to look at one advertising a Lizalfos man who boasts green scaly skin, but he is clearly Hylian, before stopping in front of a familiar face smiling softly down at me and boasting a shiny coin slot. "THE COIN-OPERATED BOY" blares out from the poster.

Giggles sound from around the corner of the tent the posters are displayed in front of. I turn my attention away from the cluster of posters and step around to see a small gaggle of young girls chattering away rapidly to each other. Another chorus of star-struck giggling sounds from the three girls. Hoping to catch their attention, I say, "Excuse me," and the three girls, just barely in their teens if anything, immediately stop their gossip. They turn round to me together, as if they were one. "I was wondering if you could help me out," I tell them.

The ones in green and red quickly whip around to look at the girl in blue, who shrugs. The girl in red puffs up and demands with one eyebrow cocked, "What is it you want?" I must be interrupting trivial matters of the upmost importance. My bad.

"I'm looking for Ilia. I was told she might be helping set up Fanadi's tent, but I can't seem to find that either," I say.

The three girls turn to one another in silent debate. Finally the red one turns back to me. "We've never seen you here before," she says a bit harshly. "What is it you want with Ilia?"

"She asked me to meet her today," I lie, the words slipping from my tongue and out my mouth like gushing water. Easy and smooth.

The girls glance suspiciously between me and each other as they consider my words. The girl in red crosses her arms across her chest, standing a bit taller. As if I'm going to be intimidated by a few budding teenagers. Really now, what's their deal? I quickly rack my brain back, trying to remember if I was this annoying, assertive and arrogant in my youth. I don't recall being a little shit, but I suppose that could be one of those side effects of age. What am I thinking? I'm probably only twice these girls' age. I really must be trying to dig myself an early grave today. The red one steps towards me, her arms still crossed. She tells me, "Madame Fanadi usually likes to set up towards the back in some out of the way spot." She juts a thumb out.

The girl in blue rolls her eyes. "She says it's only so that those with the 'inner sight' or whatever," the girl says with her hands in the air, index fingers tugging at nothing, "but she's really just a nut job."

"What exactly does she do for the carnival?" I ask, scratching a little at my scalp.

The blue one responds once again, "She's like a fortune teller, but what she says never makes any sense."

"I'll be sure to stay away from her fortunes," I promise. "Thanks." I spin on my heels and hurry away in the direction the girl in red pointed. I hear their excited whispers as they quickly go back to their gossip, and I roll my eyes, knowing that the subject, in part, must be me. The stranger. The outsider.

Picking my way through the maze of tents and wagons, I finally spot the partially erected purple and gold tent, nestled a little ways behind a mirror house. I call out, "Hello? Ilia?" as I step carefully through stakes and poles scattered about the ground. The tent rustles and bulges, and the cancerous lump in the tent reveals itself to be Ilia. She blinks at me for a moment, and then she recognizes my face, a smile cracking her soft features. She quickly detangles herself from the tent and hurries over. "Um hi." It's all I got. Ilia pulls her boot free from a tangle of rope.

She claps her hands together. "Zelda!" she exclaims before her face freezes. Her expression slips away from her face as a blankness swoops in. "It is Zelda, right?"

I laugh and nod. "Yes. Zelda."

"I was a little worried when I came back and you weren't there last night," she says. "Did you make it to the ranch alright?"

"I did," I reply. "Link tell you that?"

"Oh sorry, yes," she rambles.

"I was actually hoping to talk to him, if that's alright. He asked me to come back today, although I've been telling people that I'm here to see you." I shrug. "I don't know; it seemed like a safer bet, especially since… well, you know."

She frowns slightly, thinking it over. "Maybe," she says with a shrug. "You had to get past Mido to get in here, didn't you?"

"Mido?" I rack my brains. I don't recall meeting a Mido. "Wait," I say, holding my hands up. "Is he that short man, thirty-something and has a cane? Angry all the time?"

Ilia lets out a pearl of laughter, letting it bubble up into the air. "That's him," she says, nodding her head. "He doesn't really like Link, or so he likes to think."

She waves her hand and steps away from the tent. "Follow me."

I step carefully over the supplies to erect Fanadi's tent and hurry after the girl in denim overalls. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask her, tripping slightly on the uneven ground in my heels.

"Mido only agreed to let Link start traveling with the carnival after he saved Mido's butt. Mido was in some hot water over a poker game," she tells me before adding, "I think.

"I wasn't one of the carnies yet."

"I see."

I glance upwards and see a takkuri flying high above the carnival. Its big head bobs a little as it flies, waiting for a chance to strike. "Looks like you got yourself a visitor," I comment, and Ilia looks up. The takkuri eyes us with suspicion, circling in the sky before scrambling away from us. Feathers dance in the air as they drift down from the takkuri's hasty retreat.

She snorts and says, "Fanadi will have to watch her jewels."

Ilia leads me to the wagon that she shares with Link. She stops abruptly, her face flushing as she turns to me. "Oh!" I say, realizing what it is. "Don't worry. He told me to make sure I brought a coin today too."

She sighs in relief. "Good," she says. "Fanadi and I could actually use his help setting up her tent. She's…" Her head swivels as she tries to come up with a word. "She's not that fit," she settles on. "Just send him back over to the tent when you're ready."

"Can do," I tell her. "Thank you." I wave as she troops back into the twisting maze of tents and wagons that make up the carnival.

I dig into the pocket of my dress to get my coin purse as I open the door to the wagon. With the curtains pulled back, light pools into the wagon giving it a much lighter, cozier and homey feel than what it did before in the dark. I spy Link propped up in his chair in the corner of the wagon. His shirt is still buttoned all the way up, so I hold the coin purse in my mouth as I loosen the bowtie and unbutton his shirt halfway in order to reach the coin slot on his chest. I fish a coin out from the purse and slip it into the coin slot. The metal coin clicks and clacks in the slot as it makes its down. Suddenly, gears begin to spur, and there's a hiss of compressed air being released. There's a series of soft clicks as Link's eyelids flutter open. His glass eyes shift about wildly, taking in the room.

"Afternoon, sleepy head," I greet, straightening up and backing away. I hold out his ruined bowtie. "Sorry, you'll have to re-tie it."

"Thank you," he says softly as he quickly re-buttons his shirt. He pats his chest, right above the coin slot and takes the bowtie ribbon. I shiver a little at the touch of the rubber-like material of his skin. He hastily ties the bowtie around his neck as he says, "Decided to come back, did you? And, by the way, I don't 'sleep', I turn off."

"I'm a little disturbed," I admit to him.

An eyebrow quirks as his lips curl into a slight smile. "And whatever would have my dear princess disturbed?" he asks flatly, rising from his chair.

I frown, stepping away from him a little more. "I don't know. I can't decide between yesterday's radio announcement, a talking doll or the fact that I only ate half of my Po' Boy and then left it at the diner. I'm very torn."

He chuckles a little, readjusting his bowtie and cuffs. "I do mean it though."

"I'm concerned about my magic," I tell him.

"Your magic, huh?" He plops down on the bed, the glass balls in his head rolling up. They shift again and settle on me; he pats the bed, and I grudgingly sit next to him.

I ask, "What's wrong with it? Is there a leak?"

"And whatever gave you that idea?"

"You said that it 'seeped' out of me."

"Did I?"

I scowl at him. "You very specifically used the word 'seep' to describe it," I remind him.

He flops back. The blankets of the bed puff out with air briefly before resettling. "You must be one of those people that like to read books by those old farts from the past century," he teases. "You know, when they still got paid by the word."

"Excuse me?"

A sly smile tugs at his mouth. "You know," he says again, "I bet you read… oh what was it? It's a story that's about twelve hundred or so pages long about a damn whale of all things. Mad captain? Anyway," he says with a dismissive wave of a hand when I show no sign of responding, "I bet you read it and enjoyed it."

"And why do you say that, sir?"

"I feel like you're one of those particular people, aren't you? All verbose and everything," he tells me. "Do you ever hear the way you talk?"

"Do you?" I retort.

"I'm an old fart myself, mind you," he says airily. He pulls himself back up off the bed, metal clinks quietly under his rubber-like skin and clothing. "We liked lots of words back in my day. Language was important."

"As if it isn't now?"

"I don't understand your young people slang," he says. Is this a joke? Even if this mechanical man isn't joking, this most certainly is some great divine joke. I mean, really? A coin-operated boy? Who came up with this?

"I'm serious," I say. "What makes you think this?"

"You very specifically told me that I used the word 'seep'," he says, poking fun at me. Din, I pray that you give me the strength to shoot this mechanical abomination of a man where he sits. Preferably with a stroke of lightning. Please.

I scoff and fling myself from the bed. "I'm leaving," I say, but his hand juts out at inhuman speed and latches onto my wrist. "Hey!" I cry, trying to wring my hand out of his grip. The rubber material sticks and grates against my skin, but the mechanical man doesn't let up.

"Sit down," he commands.

"Let me go."

"Sit down."

I tug again, trying to break our standoff, but it's clear that no matter what I do, Link will have the advantage. I sit back down. Obedient. A sheep. Herded back into my pen. Link lets go.

"Your magic isn't being properly contained," he tells me.

I chew at the inside of lip for a moment before replying. "When I look within, my core seems fine," I say.

"And it is," he says, "except for its size."

"Its size?"

"The amount of magic you command has increased, but your core isn't big enough to contain it," he informs me. "You must have come into contact with something that would cause it to increase."

I frown, trying to think of what could possibly cause a change in my magic, but my mind comes up blank. I don't have an answer. "I don't know," I say finally.

He shrugs. "I figured as much since you weren't aware of a change until I pointed it out." He rubs his mouth and chin with one hand as he thinks it over. "The main thing, darling," he says, "is that you need to rope it in and expand your core." He adds: "Like taming a wild animal."

"I thought a person's magical core would expand with new increases of magical power."

Link shakes his head. "That's not always the case," he says. "Believe me."

"Link," I say, "even if it is properly contained, can you still see people's magic?"

The rubberish skin folds a little on his forehead as both his eyebrows raise. "I can," he replies, simple and short. "When someone has magic, it is essentially part of their soul – their life force. Get it, love?"

"I suppose."

"Good," he laughs. "It's a little hard to explain, and honestly, I've never been the best when it comes to words."

"Yet it hardly prevents you from rambling like a buffoon."

He pops up from the bed, and I'm not sure if it's because he's a machine or simply because he wants to, struts to exit the wagon, a spring in each step. "Well then, dear, you can just have fun trying to figure that all out on your own." His hand grasps the handle of the door.

My jaw slackens a little, but I quickly recover. "Your pet names say otherwise."

He stops and swivels on his heel, hand still on the door handle. His jaw juts out a little, and his brow furrows. "Damn," he whispers. "She's a fast one."

"Look, I'm just concerned," I say.

"About what? Others being able to see your magic?" Link asks, pulling the wagon door open. "They'd have to command a lot of it themselves in order to see it."

I drag myself over to him and follow him out of the wagon. "You'll help me though, right?" I ask him as I shut the door behind me. The bright afternoon sunlight attacks my sight, and for a moment, I'm blinded. The rays' warmth pools around me, soaking into my skin.

"Sure, love," he says, shaking out his shaggy hair. "I can't promise it won't hurt though." He stops and spins on the balls of his feet. The tail of his jacket flies with his movements. His mouth opens, but then he shuts it just as fast.

"A necessary evil?" I offer, knowing full well what he was thinking of. Yesterday's events still plague us in the dark regions of our minds, lying and waiting like a true predator. My skin prickles at the thought, and I shiver. Then it occurs to me: Link has none of these reactions. He can't feel the chill running up his metal spine nor will his rubber-like skin bubble in gooseflesh. Link still possesses sight and hearing, as well as a sixth sense, but he's lost all physical sense of the world. He knows the threat is there, but he can't _feel_ it.

An eyebrow lifts, and he asks, "What's wrong?"

I shake my head. "Nothing," I sing.

He shrugs and asks, "Where's Ilia?"

"She actually wanted you to help her set up Fanadi's tent," I say.

He frowns when he hears this. A hand reaches up and he rubs at the back of his neck. "Fanadi's… a little strange," he tells me. The hand falls back to his side. "Remember how I told you she has a little bit of magic?" He brings up the hand again, index and thumb an inch apart.

"Yes?" Where is he going with this?

He shoves his hands into his pockets. "Sometimes she gives some really crackpot fortunes," he says.

Sooo… what? My mind clicks and turns. "So you're saying that she can't always tap into her magic."

A grin breaks out on his face. "See, knew you were a smart one," he chuckles more to himself than to me. He turns and looks around the colorful maze of the carnival.

"I think I remember the way," I offer, walking up to meet him at his side.

"Good," he sighs. "Otherwise I'd be wandering around looking for the mirror house all day." He nudges me in my side with his elbow. "She likes those fun house mirrors."

**…**

In retrospect, Link's comment about fun house mirror, while cruel, does strike my humorous side. Fanadi is an extremely large woman, dressed in an intricate dress and robes, despite the late summer heat. What is most surprising of all is the fact that she had tattooed on her forehead a queer rendition of an eye. She fans herself as she sits atop of a trunk while she watches Link and Ilia struggle to finish pitching up the tent. Beads of sweat slide down from her forehead and pool around the sets of piercings she has under each eye.

She turns to me, and I quickly try to avert my eyes, hoping that she didn't notice my staring. The woman however, forces me to bring my attention back to her when she speaks. "What was your name again, dearie?"

"Zelda Nohansen."

"It sounds…" she trails. The fan wags in the air, forcing little tufts of hair that have escaped her intricate bun to flap in the breeze. Her lower lip juts out a little. "Familiar," she finishes.

I grunt in response and shift a little on my feet. I shuffle my arms some, trying to get some air under the heat of Link's dark jacket. I watch him work with Ilia to tie the tent down with rope to the stakes. Envy surges in me in a green fire, welling up from my gut and consuming my heart. I can feel the sweat on the back of my neck build under my thick hair and under my arms. Glancing over at Ilia, the poor girl's back and chest are drenched with sweat from the work. And knowing full well how Fanadi is a waterfall of perspiration next to me, I glare fiercely at Link. He looks up and meets my gaze, and Link offers me a smile, but I only return it with a scowl. He turns away and shakes out his slacks of the dust that clings to them. He's rolled his sleeves up, but not one drop of moisture clings to his white shirt. That bastard.

Link jogs over to us. "Alright, it's up," he tells Fanadi as Ilia drags a large rug into the tent. "We can move all your stuff in."

Fanadi sniffs a little. "Very well," she says, fan still wagging, and she relinquishes her seat on the trunk.

Link bends to pick up the large trunk, and I offer to help, but he shakes his head. "I got it," he tells me, but I insist, slinging his jacket over my shoulder and bending to pick up one end. Link shrugs, and says, "Well, you can try." And try I do, but the trunk stays firmly on the ground, as if stuck with glue. Link snickers at my failed attempts to lift the trunk, and says again, "I got it, really. Don't worry about it." I move aside as he grasps the handles on both ends of the trunk and lifts it with ease.

"A machine's got to be good for something," I joke.

Link chuckles. "Indeed," he says with a wink and carries the trunk into the tent, Fanadi waddling at his heels. Ilia holds the flap of the tent for them, and I see as soon as Link sets the trunk down, Fanadi reclaims her seat once more.

Between the three of us, we get Fanadi's tent set up in no time. Ilia thanks us both for the help before rushing off to tend to some of the animals. "Link, can you make sure to feed the cucco?" she asks as she jogs away.

Link groans, but calls back to her, "Sure!

"I hate that cucco," he spits under his breath.

"The man-eating cucco?" I tease.

He shakes his head. "A little monster, I swear. Why do you think they always have_ me_ feed the thing? It hates everyone and is quick to snap."

"But it's not really man-eating is it?"

Link barks a laugh, saying, "No, but the deku babbas are another story…"

"What! Are you serious?"

He's about to reply when my name sounds. We glance at each other briefly, but then Link just shrugs and gestures me to go. "I'll go feed that damn cucco," he says. "Go see what she wants."

I nod and slip into the tent. Fanadi sits on her trunk, a table in front of her, and beckons me closer. "Did you need some help with something?" I ask her, watching her bend over. She struggles to grab ahold of something, grumbling in response to me. "Um, Fanadi?"

"Hold on! Hold on!" she insists. Finally, she pulls herself up, holding onto the table for support. "Sit, sit, dearie," she tells me as she plops a large crystal ball onto the table and then proceeds to fix her extremely large hairdo. She frowns, her lips sliding into a taught line. The ball of a labret juts out from the curve between her chin and bottom lip. "What was your name again?" she asks, rubbing her chin. I open my mouth to answer, but she shushes me, peering into the crystal ball. "It'll come!" I roll my eyes.

I glance around the small tent, suddenly feeling cramped among the many things she has crammed in here. It's almost as if she emptied her wagon of all its contents. I spy a small stool placed haphazardly next to a bundle of cushions, and I drag it over to her. Looks like I'll get my very own "crackpot" fortune from this loon. But, I suppose every last person in this carnival is a bit loony at the very least.

"It's Zelda," I remind her, after waiting for her to speak for some time.

She flaps a hand at me. "What would you like to knooow?" she asks me, her eyes growing wide. She leans in to get a closer look at me, but only succeeds in sending gooseflesh scurrying up my arms in warning.

"Um… anything?"

She leans back, muttering, "Very well." Fanadi peers into her crystal ball, her hands out and fingers wiggling like little, fat worms. "Elihwa sekat gnidaol tiaw!" she shouts, flying back from the crystal and eyes wide. I jump in my skin at the sudden outburst. Fanadi relaxes, but I remain rigid on the stool.

Fanadi mutters to herself, rubbing her chin again in thought. "This is very straaange," she says.

"I'm sorry?"

Fanadi shakes her head, and slaps both hands onto the table. Her face dives in close to mine. "I see many strange things," she says. "There's a powerful machine with a heart of green, and it will lead you across many landscapes in search of gold."

I blink. "Uh, thank you," I say, stumbling out of the chair.

**…**

"I don't see anything behind it," I sneer.

Link rubs at the back of his neck as he mulls over the story of what transpired in Fanadi's tent. "You know, she once told a woman that a young man would approach her at the carnival wanting to date her," he tells me. "Unfortunately, I just _had_ to be the first one to approach her. I only got an 'Excuse me, ma'am,' in before she rejected me!"

I snort, trying to hold in my laughter.

I ask him, "But what do you think of what she said to me?"

To this, he shrugs. "I dunno. She's pretty good at making things seem cryptic when she honestly has nothing to say at all."

My stomach grumbles a little, and I sit down next to Link on Ilia's bed. The stars twinkle in the night sky though the window opposite of us. I cross my arms, and huddle into myself. Link nudges my side, but when I don't respond right away, he pinches a fold of skin above my hip. I yelp and squirm away. "What's this a muffin top?" he teases, trying to pinch me again.

"Stop, stop, STOP!" I scream, swinging my arms any which way I can. I try to wiggle away, but only succeed in falling off of the bed.

Link's laughter bounces off the walls of the wagon and makes no move to help me up, and I kick his shin. His laughter doesn't let up though, and I realize that he probably couldn't even feel my hit.

I pull myself back up onto the bed. I seat myself a little further away from Link and smooth my skirt. "Can we just get started on this?" I ask him impatiently.

"Alright, alright," he relents, but the smile is still on his face, the little wrinkles next to his shinning eyes.

I close my eyes, turning my sight inward. My core, spherical and large, swirls with magic. It pulses as I reach out a hand to touch it, alive, willing and daring, and it radiates warmth. Threads of purple and blue mix with white and – something new – gold within the sphere. It's a marvelous mixture of color, and I skim my fingers across the surface of my core, following the movements of the contained magic. "The new magic is gold," I tell Link, my eyes still locked firmly on the core and the magic inside of it. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"Gold?" comes his voice. There's a pause. Something's not right. Link only responds with, "No.

"Now just concentrate on what is _beyond_ your core," he instructs, blowing past my question, and I allow it and follow his directions. What _is_ beyond my core? Beyond me? I strain my sight, pushing myself past my magical core, and then I see it. The waves of gold and blue drift from my core. The magic shrinks and swells as it escapes, moving to the beating pulse of my core.

"Now what?" I ask, still concentrating on the wild magic that pools away from me. "Try and pull it in?"

Link's voice cuts through, sharp and demanding. "No, you'll kill yourself that way. You have to do it slowly." I bite my lip. Slowly. "This will take a while, but what you need to do is feel the magic and condense it into a smaller form."

"Like wind it or something?"

"That will work," Link says. "_You_ are the one that needs to control it, so you need to make it bend. You need to will it."

I breathe deeply, preparing myself for the task. The air swirls and fills my lungs, and then I exhale, a vice grip on my lungs. I reach out a hand and thrust it into the waves of magic. It chills my skin and tickles my palm. My other hand enters the fray of gold and blue. Make it bend. Make it wind. I will the magic to rest in my hands. It struggles and thrashes, but I'm able to grasp it in long threads. It's almost like trying to hook a worm for fishing. Slowly, I work the magic, binding it together and winding it into thin ropes. The chills slither up my spine.

The magic is difficult and defiant. It tries to weasel its way out of my hands continuously, but I hold fast onto it, denying it the freedom it so wants. Eventually, the cooling sensation of the magic begins to heat my palms, and an itchy fire races across them. The magic festers on my sore palms, but I continue, relentlessly bending it to my will and putting my soul into it.

And I work late into the evening.

**…**

"You sure you'll be alright?"

I open my car door and slide inside, grateful to have a place to rest my aching muscles. I roll the window down and lean out. "I'll be fine," I tell Link. "I'm just tired. Once I get home, I can sleep it off."

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and his glassy eyes flick away from me. "Will you be back tomorrow?"

I rest my head on my forearms. "No. I have to work," I tell him. His shoulders droop a little. "I can be back in a few days though," I promise him. "Okay?"

Link's head bobs in the dark a few times. A devilish smirk spreads across his face. "What is that you do? What's your job?" he asks with genuine interest despite the smirk.

"Ah! I'm uh…" I shrug a shoulder. "I'm a supervising operator for the city's call centre."

Chuckles break beats into the night. "Oh-ho!" Link exclaims. He dances back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet, hands in his pockets. "No wonder you're so particular and precise."

I ignore his jabs. "How long do you guys usually stay in one spot?" I ask him.

"Usually a couple of weeks, but it really depends on how much business we get. Since it takes so long to set up and tear it down, we usually stay at least a week, even if business is bad."

"Should I keep asking for Ilia when I come?"

He nods. "Her main job is to care for the animals and help coordinate the shows," he informs me. "She'll know where to find me, whether I'm on or off."

"Right." I catch my bottom lip between my teeth and avert my gaze for a moment. "She said Mido doesn't really like you."

Link snickers at this, his shoulders popping. How is it he can be a machine, but still maintain all his human gestures? Are they so ingrained in him? "No, he doesn't. He tries to pick fights with me all the time."

"May I ask why?"

"Another time," he promises, stepping away from the car.

"Be careful, love," he tells me. "Things are about to get messy, especially in a place like Castleton, so watch yourself."

"I will," I say, starting the car. It roars to life, grumbling in the night. I roll my window up and put the car in gear. Tugging at the wheel, I turn it full circle in the field and give Link a small wave as I pass by. He waves back.

The car bumps and bounces away as I drive towards the road. The engine talks to me in chugs and gurgles, and I push it further away from the carnival. I glance up at the rearview mirror, and in the dark, I can still see Link's stocky figure standing in the grassy field. The colors and lights of the carnival tents line behind him, shining bright against his black figure. The car jerks as I hit a deep bump in the ground. I sneak another look before I pull the car onto the road.

Link still stands where I left him, his hand raised to the sky.

* * *

><p>Sooo... I've been thinking lately of getting my motorcycle license back. I haven't really had an urge to ride since my brother got in an accident, but maaan. I want a bike again. Once I pay my car off. Haha. I went and looked at some yesterday, and drooled (secretly; I have a pretty good poker face). My friend was like,"Why do you want a small motor?" Stupid. I was looking mostly at sport bikes (i.e. crotch rockets) with like a 250cc motor. You guys don't know this, but I am TINY. Like we're talking 5'3, 120lbs. You see those dudes riding like 600cc motor crotch rockets - I'm like half their size. That shit ain't flying, even if I lowered the bike. Like, I probably couldn't even reach the ground still. Haha.<p>

My excited motorcycle rambles aside, I want to thank you guys for all your comments and suggestions in your reviews and PMs. I do love hearing from you guys and talking to you. I have a little bit of the third chapter written, and there will be more of Castleton and Zelda's usual life there. Yes, we're going back to civilization next chapter!

Now, I actually got burned at work today, so I am off to tend to my latest battle wound from the bakery. A pan slipped and slid into my bicep when I was pulling it down to move to another rack. It just came out of the oven too, but not quite as bad as the burns from the oven door. Anyway, I'll most likely see you guys next in Zombie Cake. If you're not following that, then I shall see you here!

I hope you guys have a very fun St. Pattie's Day; don't drink too much and don't mix.

;3


	3. Dark Dark Dark

Coin-Operated

3.0

Dark Dark Dark

It's chaos, but not in the way that anybody would expect. I slide across the wooden floors over to girl whose hand shoots up into the air, the skirt of my dress swishing as I skate. This is ordered, finicky chaos, and it is non-stop. The ringing of bells constantly fills the air, and the women's voices bubble up with the ringing as they answer and redirect calls. I swivel to a stop by the girl who raised her hand, which falls right back down the moment I arrive. She pulls the plug of her headset out of the switchboard and plugs it back in another port. I shove my plug into the one she just occupied and answer the call, "Number please."

After ending the connection, I continue my rounds. The Hello Girls wave as I come by them. The Hello Girls are operators with a "wake up" list. On the list are numbers of subscribers and times in which the Hello Girls are to call said number to wake up the resident. Some of the numbers are to party lines, and each resident on the party line has a different letter in which the operator has to connect to, and the Hello Girls have to keep it all straight. But essentially, the Hello Girls are human alarm clocks, making seventy-five cents of a rupee an hour.

Most of us working as telephone operators at Central are Hylian, but a few of the girls are human. One of them, however, is neither. Ruto, a Hello Girl operator, is a woman of Zora descent marked by the bluish tint of her skin. She is also a girl that is frequently sent home, because the hemline of her dress is too high or the neckline too low. I personally don't care, considering that we're all held up in this place all day and not one person ever sees us, I don't quite see the point of trying to maintain such modesty. Her lips flap as she greets a subscriber with the usual morning hello. "Ruto," I call, as I approach. "Gum." She turns, finishing up the call and then shuts off the connection. As I roll past her, she grumbles, grabbing a wastebasket and spitting her chewing gum into it, and then she moves on to make the next call on her list.

I weave through the operators, stopping occasionally when a girl raises her hand for me to take over her call. When I approach the offices, I see through the window that my boss has arrived. I skate up to the door to his office and knock on the frame. He looks up briefly from his paperwork and greets me. "I was wondering if you'd given any thought to my request."

He shuffles his paperwork, reorganizing it. My boss waves me in, saying, "Close the door." I do so, and slide up to his desk. "Look, but I'm afraid at the present time that I'm unable to give you a raise-" He holds up a hand to cut me off as I open my mouth. I clamp it shut and allow him to continue. "That's not to say your performance hasn't been acceptable or anything; it's just not in the budget."

"I'd like to remind you that while I've worked here for the last six years, apart from my promotion to supervisor, I haven't received a wage increase," I tell him, trying my best to keep the bitterness out of my voice. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a girl shoot her hand up and excuse myself.

I swiftly take care of the issue and continue to make my rounds. When I pass by the Hello Girls again, Ruto turns in her chair and calls my name. I turn around and backtrack to her. "Did you want to go get lunch with me today?" she asks.

"Sure, that sounds nice."

She gives me a small smile and nods. "We can pick up a couple of Po' Boys or something from the street vendors maybe," she suggests.

The half-eaten sub sandwich I left sitting on the counter at the diner two nights ago surfaces in my mind. My stomach grumbles a little. "Let's do the subs," I say, wanting to avenge my unfinished Po' Boy.

"Sounds good," she says, and Ruto turns back to the switchboard to answer another call.

**…**

"I wanted to tell you earlier that you don't look so good today," Ruto says as our sandwiches are set in front of us. I resettle myself on the stool, sipping at my drink, the clatter and chatter of the diner drifting in one ear and out the other. She asks me, "Are you alright?"

"I'm just tired is all," I tell Ruto, picking up my sub with a grumbling stomach. I'm hardly sleep deprived after the way I just about blacked out the second my head hit the pillow last night, but I feel just so _drained_. It's almost as if I used every fiber of my being yesterday to wrestle in the new magic and expand my magical core. I'm sore and beaten from the very center of my being. "It's been a rough couple of days." And it'll be more than a rough couple of days to follow.

Ruto snorts. "You're telling me. When my father heard the address the other night, he about _destroyed_ the radio," she tells me, her eyes going wide. The image of Ruto's father, a heavy set businessman who is hardly what anybody would describe as fit, attempting to do anything to a radio is pretty laughable. She leans over the table slightly, and then I'm suddenly seeing Fanadi, the fortune teller carnie, leaning in an inch from my face with wide, wild eyes. I shake my head to rid myself of the image and bring myself back to the present. With Ruto. With the sandwiches. With Castleton.

Ruto babbles on, but my mind is elsewhere as I watch the passerby. I don't even care what I look like at the moment as I wolf down the sub sandwich. "Zelda, slow down," Ruto hisses at me and elbows my side, breaking into my personal reverie. "People are staring."

"I'm starving."

"I can see that," Ruto grumbles, "but all other people see is a woman with the table manners of a wolfos."

I shrug. "I'm starving," I repeat.

Ruto looks around, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "What's going on with you?" she asks again. "Seriously."

"Nothing."

"Did boss man not give you that raise?"

"No, he didn't," I admit, but I cut her off just as her mouth opens. "I wasn't really expecting much anyway."

"Zelda," she whimpers, but I'm not falling for her ploy. I roll my eyes, and look around at the other diners. It's kind of funny to see how quickly people avert their eyes just so I won't think that they've been staring at me.

But then my heart stops, and I about choke on my Po' Boy. I tap Ruto on the arm. "Um, Ruto?"

"What?"

"Have you looked around us at all?"

"What? People are staring?" she says, annoyance lacing her words. There's a gnawing in my stomach at this point, but it's definitely not what I would call hunger. Not in the slightest. My eyes flick around the diner, never settling on one person for too long. I turn back to look ahead behind the counter Ruto and I sit at, and the employees whiz to and fro. They're perfectly nice and courteous to us, sure, but that's about all. "I told you to slow down on that sub." I glance over at Ruto, who takes another dainty bite out of her Po' Boy.

"Ruto," I hiss. "Look around."

Still chewing, Ruto does a quick survey of the diner. At this point, the other patrons are starting to try and avoid our wandering eyes. Ruto gulps down the last bit of the sandwich in her mouth. She sets her sandwich down on her plate and stares at it. "I'm not sure if I'm hungry anymore," she says, casting another over her shoulder.

"Let's just get it wrapped up to go," I suggest.

Ruto and I are able to catch the attention of a passing cook, and in no time he wraps our sandwiches, seemingly understanding our urgency to get out of the diner. He offers us a sympathetic smile as he hands us the Po' Boys, and we each leave him with what we owe. I give him a small wave before Ruto takes a hold of my arm in a vice grip and drags me out of the diner.

The two of us scurry down the street in haste, back towards the call centre, and find an empty bench to plop ourselves down on. We sit there frozen for a moment before breathing a sigh of relief and unwrap our subs to finish. "That was uncomfortable," Ruto comments through a mouthful of her sub. And she wants to chastise me about my table manners. Her hand flies to her mouth as she loses a piece of lettuce, and we both are set off in broken, nervous giggles. "Sorry, I wouldn't have suggested we go there if I knew so many humans would be there."

I shrug it off. "It's alright; we're out of there now, right?" I nudge her a little, and she laughs.

I look around us, soaking in our surroundings. People, human, Hylian and what-have-you, pass us by without a glance. We're suddenly part of the scenery and something insignificant. Wallflowers. I sink down a little more the bench, feeling less rigid than in the diner. The glint in the sunshine in the corner of my sight, however, catches my eye. I can feel the smile stretching on my face as I tug the sleeve of Ruto's dress. "Ruto," I say, pointing, "look! It's Rinku." And Ruto cranes her neck to look, a grin spreading on her face as well.

We finish our subs on the bench, the statue Rinku looming behind us. The great big copper wolf is poised behind us, standing tall and proud, but the wolf is waiting. Rinku stands not far off behind us, the sense of protection the wolf gives us never leaving our side, even as Ruto and I stand to leave and head back to work.

**…**

"Alright, try again," Link says.

Following his previous instruction, I close my eyes and look inward. I can see my magic letting loose tiny wispy threads, curling and weaving like snakes from my core. Over the past few days, I'd been able to slowly wind the wild magic together on my own, but taming it is a whole other field from pulling it in. I reach out and attempt to grasp one of the threads in my hand, but doing so is like trying to catching a slimy eel in a bucket to grill. The threads of wild magic slip and slither away from me as if knowing what my intentions are.

Frustrated, I groan and pull at my hair. "I can't even grab on to one!" I whine, my eyes open wide.

Link chuckles. I glare at him. "It's like fishing," he says, his grin never faltering. "You just have to wait for one to get into your hook." He tugs one of my hands out of my hair; tangled blond locks fall limply to the side. "Come on, try again."

I mumble some choice curses at him as I look inside once more. This time I wait with bated breath, my eyes darting, looking for that one opportune moment. Finally, a thread waves itself into my path, and I hastily grapple for it. It squirms and wriggles in my clutches, and I fling myself back, holding onto the thread of magic with everything I have. I wrangle it into my core, and I _feel_ the stretch. I gasp and clutch at my chest at the sudden tightness. The initial jolt of pain subsides, and a dull ache resounds through my body.

"Stiff," is all I manage to say.

Link's laughter pulses through the air within the wagon. "Come on, you still have a lot more to go."

"If one was like that, I don't know."

"You can't expect to contain all of it at once, love," Link reminds me, although I'm unsure of whether it's meant to encourage or dissuade me.

I sigh and close my eyes once more to see my core swirling and pulsing with the new golden hued magic, but there's still more to contain. My magical core spasms in protest as I move to pull another thread into it. My core swells within my chest, thrashing from its confines, but I force it to relent. Rubbing my chest, I ask, "Is it always this painful?"

"Usually," Link replies. "I mean, think about it, my dear. You're trying to shove something into a container that's too small." He tugs at my earlobe. I swat at his hand as his laughter is let loose. "Have you ever tried to fit earrings that are too big in your ear?"

"I haven't, but you could always ask Fanadi," I retort.

He snickers at this, and I notice the slight popping of his shoulders again. "She is something else," he comments absently.

He shakes his head. "Come on. Do a few more, and then we'll call it a day, alright?"

"I guess."

His mouth thins as he stares me down, but I can see the way a smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth, just begging to be let free. He opens his mouth to reply, but we're both jolted when the door to the wagon opens up.

Ilia pokes her head in. A small smile is planted on her face, and her eyes flick to the floor. "Um, they're discussing all the related regulations and laws to the magic ban on the radio," she tells us, her voice soft. "I thought you two might want to listen in."

I glance over at Link. His mouth is set into a grim line, and he pops himself up from the bed. He strides easily over to the door without a word as I brace myself to lift myself up. I follow the two carnies out of the wagon, shaking as I go. It's not from anxiety, but from sudden feeling of general weakness. Ilia leads us through the winding tents and small fair rides of the carnival to the mess tent where I first met her, and Link shoots looks back at me as we make our way through, ensuring that I'm alright.

When we enter the mess tent, it has none of the usual boisterousness that I first witnessed the night of the President's first address on the outlawing of magic. The carnies are either silent or speaking in low, subdued tones with one another. Those that are eating, eat in silence, casting glances around the room. We follow Ilia to the opposite end of the tent where the radio was set up. There's a small gathering of carnies who listen in to the radio address intently. The three of us drag some chairs over to it and join the group.

"-Will perform mandatory inspections. These inspections are not to be refused or disrupted. Any form of interference will be seen as acts of rebellion and treason."

I look around. Some of the carnies are bracing themselves against tables or chairs or another person to keep from shaking. One girl sits alone, fists waded on top of her knees. She trembles in the chair. Her head of flame sends a needle prick to my heart as I think of Malon out on the ranch.

Link shifts in his chair suddenly, and I feel myself jump. I close my eyes and feel the air swoop into my lungs as I breathe deeply, trying to calm myself. My eyes flutter open and I look over at Link. He's taken to slouching in the chair, his head leaning back up towards the ceiling of the tent with eyes closed. One would think he is taking a leisurely nap on a warm afternoon.

From what I've heard and understand, there are a few things in which the law holds exception to magic. First being that anyone capable of using magic and wishes to freely join ranks with the National Guard may do so. These people must first pass numerous tests to see what they are capable of, their mental and emotional state, and while it wasn't explicitly mentioned but implied, to see if their loyalties easily change. The Guard cannot license a magic user into its ranks if there is a chance of rebellion. Any member of the Guard found using magic outside of the needs of the Guard or the government is to held in treason.

Citizens may also opt, under the same manner of tests, apply to be a part of the Magical Inquisition Task Force. The task force, like the Guard, is another way to keep magic under wraps by, of course, using magic. The government would have no hope of containing the use of magical items or the magic of the people if they did not employ those capable of magic themselves. To top it off, these are people alongside the Guard that may gain entry to a citizen's home for housing at any time. It's just another way to keep tabs on the people with minimal interference.

Citizens, those with and without magic, are another manner. We are to submit to inspections of our homes, businesses and person at any time for magical objects. Any objects found to be containing magical properties will be swiftly confiscated by MITF. Obviously, the whole concept of warrants has now gone _poof!_ with our freedoms. Should we refuse any inspection or attempt to interrupt, distract or interfere with task force inspection or prevent entry to task force or Guard members, we will be held in treason. Any citizen found using magic will immediately be incarcerated on treason charges as well. It was never mentioned, but I think it's safe to assume that when someone, Guard, government worker or citizen (it doesn't matter), is accused of treason, there will be no trial. We are not indulged the price for our treason, but I can only imagine all the punishments that the government would deem fine and fit.

It's ruthless and brutal, just as the president intended.

I chew at the inside flesh at the corners of my mouth.

My greatest misgiving about the whole thing though is why? What's the point? The president says it's so that we may advance as a society, but this is hindering us. What's the motive? What's really the gain? Right now, all that's happening is that we're being packed together in tins like sardine. We are being put under strict control. The president is exercising oppression like it will deliver us to a new world order. A world that's better, brighter and much more rounded. To blatantly put it, it's stupid.

The carnies whisper among themselves. Ilia casts Link and me nervous glances. Link, still slouched low in the chair, opens his eyes and glances at Ilia. She bites her lower lip and focuses her eyes onto the radio briefly before returning to Link. He lolls his gaze over to me. His mouth opens to say something to me, and his hand lifts up to reach out, but then he thinks better of it. His mouth clamps shut, and his hand falls limply to his side.

We're doomed.

**…**

Ruto chatters away in my ear as we sit eating lunch. I'm not really listening, just enjoying my soup, soaking in the warm rays of the sunshine and basking in the protectiveness the statue of the wolf, Rinku. Ever since the other day when Ruto and I ate in a diner that consisted of human patrons staring us down, we've taken to eating by the statue of the great wolf. It's kind of silly, I admit, but I can't help but feel like the wolf is there on guard, despite what the stories say.

The Rinku statue was commissioned not long after the Twilight Era when Hyrule's princess was usurped by rogue Twili. The princess then became a prisoner in her own castle. Legends say that a man capable of shape shifting into a fearsome beast was able to deliver the land from the darkness that plagued it, but then was left incapable of transforming. Some stories have the hero remain as a beast, while others state he could only walk as a man after his trials. I'm not sure about it all myself, as the young hero's story is often changed and misconstrued over the ages, resulting in the many conflicting legends today. The statue itself, however, is a testimony to that powerful wolf that is said to have stayed by the princess' side after darkness was driven from Hyrule. Whether this wolf was in fact the Hero of Legend or not, I don't know, but personally, I think it's a possibility. Even after the princess died, the wolf waited for her until the end of its days. The Rinku statue is all that's left from the wolf's time, testifying to its determination and loyalty.

It feels natural, almost, to let Rinku watch over me, even if it is just for my lunch hour. Our future as a country is now incredibly uncertain, and it's comforting to know that _somebody_, man or beast, is watching over us. Watching over me.

Ruto smacks my arm. "Zelda!" she snaps. "Have you been listening at all?"

"No," I reply plainly.

My Zora companion huffs and pouts, and I continue to sip my soup, bits of potato breaking the broth's surface. Ruto groans, and stretches her long, bluish limbs. I poke at the bits of vegetables and beef in the soup with my spoon as we survey the people around us. In the streets, the feeling of being unwelcome is hardly there, especially with Rinku hovering above our heads.

"Zelda!" Ruto hisses, nudging me again.

"What?"

"Did you see that guy?" she gushes, her green eyes large and round.

"There are a lot of guys out here, Ruto," I say, a slight chuckle in my voice. "It'd be kind of hard to pick him out."

She scowls in disbelief at me. "This one was _gorgeous_," she insists, and suddenly the three young carnie girls come to mind. Totally, utterly star-struck. They giggled, they gushed, they gossiped. I shake my head. Thinking if Ruto and I were maybe fifteen years younger, she'd be a perfect fit with her big mouth (both literally and figuratively) while I, as usual, side-step these types of conversations. It baffles me sometimes, how we manage to get along. Ruto is the epitome of the prissy princess concept. Annoying, but humorous on occasion, I'll admit.

"Ruto," I groan. "Please, just let me finish my soup."

She frowns and then takes a bite out of her sandwich. Through the bite, she whines. "He disappeared," she pouts. I shrug, sipping my soup.

"Shouldn't you, my dear, be at work?" a voice calls from behind, and I jump nearly out of my skin. I whip my head around and see none other than Link, the mechanical man squatting on the base of the statue with the great wolf looming over his shoulder. He casts it a glance when he follows my eyes, and then pats Rinku's muzzle. "Amazing, huh?"

"Don't you… I don't know, have a show to do or something?"

"Business is slow," Link says, waving it off. He shrugs, rubbing his hands together. "So I skipped off. Ilia will cover for me if it comes to it," he assures me. Indeed, his jacket is not present, which I know doesn't bother him to wear, no matter what heat plagues us. His slacks are less fine as well, made of a brown tweed material. Suspenders line his torso over his white shirt. With the sleeves rolled up and the top couple of buttons undone, he blends right in. No one would even guess that the man doesn't feel the heat.

"I'm eating lunch, if it isn't obvious to you," I tell him.

He leans over, still squatting, to see over my shoulder. A streak of worry flashes through me that he will topple over and land face first into my lunch, but he maintains his balance and rolls back on his heels. "It looks good," he says. "Looks" he says. I poke at the soup. "Looks" not "smells".

I say wryly, "You'll fry your insides."

Link chuckles, rising up to his full height. He vaults himself off the statue and over us and the bench, landing on his feet in front of us with mechanical grace. He gives me a lopsided grin and I merely grimace at him.

"What are you doing here?"

"You told me you work over at the call centre," he says, flopping down on the bench beside me. "I want to see it."

"I don't think-"

But at this, Ruto chimes in, eager to get something into the conversation. "Oh come on, Zelda, the boss man isn't in today. You're the top dog," she says. What a wench! I shoot her a knowing glare telling her that I know what she's up to, but Ruto returns it with a slight snort for me and a wink for Link. Link looks merely bemused by our brief exchange.

"Fine," I cede, which brings a large, sloppy grin to his face. "You can come, but if you get in the way, I'm kicking your butt out.

"By the way, Link, this is my co-worker Ruto."

Ruto giggles a little. "Hi," she says a bit shyly. I roll my eyes, knowing perfectly well how she operates.

Ruto and I sit in silence finishing up our lunches. Link pops up from the bench and looks around the square we sit in. "I'll meet you back there," he says, turning back to face us. "Alright? There's something else I want to check out." I shiver a little under his impaling eyes.

"Alright. I'm not going to wait for you though," I say.

Link gives us one last grin before skittering off, his shoes clacking and tapping as he goes.

When Link is finally out of sight, Ruto immediately launches herself into me. "You didn't tell me you knew him!" she hisses at me.

I frown. "_He_ was the one you were talking about?"

Ruto pulls back, exasperated. "Who else? The man's simply a doll!" Oh, Ruto. You have no idea.

We finish up our lunches quickly, realizing our lunch hour was running short, and head back to the call centre. To be able to hurry along in heels and not fall is a miracle I will never understand how to obtain. The way Ruto can hustle down the street in her shoes is mind boggling to me, and she's clearly agitated with my dogged slowness. She glares down the block from me, her hands on her hips. Her blue black hair blows wildly with the wind, making her seem much fiercer than I know she actually is. Ruto shifts her weight on her feet, back and forth, back and forth, as she waits for me to catch up.

Link's waiting for us outside Central when we arrive, leaning casually against the stone building. He perks up a bit when he sees us approach and peels himself from the stone, swaying as he regains his balance on his feet. "Slow," is all he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Zelda's the slow one," Ruto sniffs, and I elbow her.

I drag both of them inside the building. Ruto and I clock back in, and I lace up my skates again. It's much easier to maneuver around in this place all day on these things. Ruto takes her place back among the Hello Girls, while I send a few more girls onto their lunches. Link seems a little awed by the operations of the call centre, watching as girls deftly transfer calls through all the commotion. One of the other supervisors, skating in another row, mouths to me, "Who is that?" and I shake my head. I move to take over a call, feeling Link hovering behind me. I roll my eyes and finally get the call transferred.

Sighing, I pull the plug of my headset out, and swivel to face him. "Come on," I say, nodding my head over to offices. He follows me down past the operators, who all eye him curiously and give him sly smiles. I pull him into an office and shut the door, keeping an eye out on the operators through the windows.

"What are you doing here?" I snap at him.

Link snorts with laughter. "I told you, love, I wanted to see Central."

"Well, here it is," I say, waving my arm towards the window, where girls sneak us glances in between calls. Visitors to Central are not an everyday kind of deal among the operators. Sure, occasionally we'll get the school field trips, but that's about it.

Link doesn't respond. He just continues to stare at me with that thin lipped smile. I swear, this machine does things just to irk me.

"Seriously, Link."

"I was worried," he admits. His hand flashes out, and in an instant, he has my cheek pinched between his fingers. "Aight?"

I smack his hand down. "Don't touch me," I snap.

"Why? Because they're watching?" he asks, with a playful nod out the office windows. I shoot a glare out the windows, and several of the girls quickly avert their gazes. "I don't mean the girls exclusively though," he says, and I whip my attention back to him.

"What do you mean?"

"I had to skip out of the carnival today," Link says with a shrug. "So did Fanadi." At this, we both giggle a little. "She was a bit of a nightmare to get her and some of her stuff packed up and shipped out," Link tells me as he leans up against the desk behind him, and pulls at some loose threads in his shirt and pants. "They're sending in squads to check us out."

"Oh."

"You haven't noticed anything unusual at your home, have you?"

"No."

"Nobody's come to talk to you?"

"Not yet."

Link frowns.

"Link," I say, "they probably had you guys picked out as one of the first places to trample through. You're a carnival!"

"I know, I know!" he says irritably.

I sigh. "Link." He stares defiantly down at the floorboards and his shoes. "Link, do you have any idea when you're set to turn off?"

He scratches at the back of his neck as he thinks it over. "I think maybe at about six o'clock. Seven maybe. I don't really know when I turned on."

"If I give you a coin now, will it prolong the shut down?"

"It should," he says.

I dig in the pocket of my dress for my coin purse. "Stick around Central," I instruct him as I rifle through the coins. "I get off at about five-thirty. You're coming home with me."

"But-!"

"Hush," I chide, pressing a coin into his palm. "My place is a safer bet than sending you back to the carnival. Who knows how long they'll be crawling over that field. Got it?"

"Got it," he grumbles, shoving the coin into the pocket of his slacks. He rises and moves to leave the office, but his hand comes to rest on the handle. "I'm dreaming," he whispers.

"What?"

"I'm dreaming," he repeats. "I don't dream. To dream is to sleep," he tells me. His voice cracks and breaks. He shoots me a look, and I'm struck numb. "I don't sleep."

He blinks.

And then he's gone.

**…**

The ride home on the trolley is a long one. I sit calmly, watching people, buildings and cars whiz by in the trolley windows. Link, however, cannot sit still. His head keeps swiveling between the windows and the other passengers, who are all wrapped up in their own worlds with newspapers or thoughts of home. Passengers like me. Link starts to jiggle his leg again, and I put my hand on his thigh to stop him. It doesn't. Of course, I forgot. So I hiss under my breath, "Stop it." And he stops his wiggling.

What he cannot stop is the way his eyes keep flicking about.

Seeing my usual stop coming into view, I tug on the rope pull above my head. The trolley pulls to a stop, and I motion Link to get off with me. He practically skips out of the trolley with glee, a caged animal gone free. He slows his pace once his feet hit the concrete sidewalk, stuffing his hands into his pockets, and rolls his shoulders.

"My apartment is a few blocks over," I inform him, beginning to make my way there. He jogs to catch up to me and then falls in step, ever silent.

I sneak a glance at him. "It'll be alright," I assure him upon seeing the deep set frown and creases in his brow.

When we reach the stoop of my apartment, I lead Link into the row house and up the stairs. Our shoes beat on the wooden planks of the stairs, but halfway up, only mine continue to sound. Link hangs back, his back to the wall and his hands gripping the railing for dear life. "Link?" I call to him. He shakes his head, and I continue up the last of the stairs alone. I unlock my door and push it open, peeking cautiously inside.

Stepping into my flat, I tour it and inspect it. Nothing is out of place. Well, nothing that I know of. There's nobody in the flat but myself either. I check everything out a second time, and then I breathe easy. I don't believe that anybody's been into my flat while I've been away at work. Letting out a sigh, I march back out of the flat and into the hall where Link still stands with the stair railing his hostage.

"It's clear," I say, and he looks up at me. The skin of arms ripple in gooseflesh. I hate it when he looks at me like that- and dammit! Those eyes are fake! They're fake, but they pierce right through me.

Link releases the railing and hurries up the last of the flight of stairs. He skitters past me and into the flat, and I shut the door. Link surveys my flat as I lock up. As I turn around, he spins on his heel and says, "Second floor. Do you have a fire escape?"

"Yes, through my bedroom," I say, leading him down the hall past the den and the bath. Right when the hall meets the kitchen, I turn sharply to the left and show him into my bedroom. "It's right out that window," I tell him, pointing. He nods and moves to look out the window, inspecting the alleyway below.

"It's not closed off down there, is it?"

"No," I say. "You can escape through there if you have to."

"Good," he sighs. He teeters on his feet for a moment and then falls back onto my bed.

"How's the wild magic?" he asks me, switching gears.

I take a seat next to him on the bed, staring out the window, and shrug. "Alright, I guess. I'm nowhere near finished though." The room is dim in the fading light from the windows, casting everything in the grey hues of shadow. The sky outside is ripe and deep with colors of orange and red against the blackened buildings of my neighborhood. My heart sinks with weight at the sight.

"So long as you're making progress," he says. "It's important, though, that you do hurry it up. Don't dilly dally on this, dear."

"I won't," I promise. "I'll get it done."

He twiddles his thumbs, staring at the ceiling. I suck in a breath and then let it out slowly, enjoying the stillness of the room.

"What's this about you dreaming?" I ask.

"I see things," he says softly. "Memories sometimes. You know, when I was actually a real live person. Then I remember things from when I was first shoved into a doll. Then there are all these places that I visited when I was a person and not a machine, but when I go back to them, I'm as I am now, not as I was before."

"You don't dream at all, though, right?" I ask, turning away from the window with the fading light that makes my heart heavy and peering down at him.

"No," he confirms, shaking his head. "I turn off. I don't sleep."

"Well," I begin, "I suppose in any case, maybe you need to revisit these places? There has to be a reason as to why you're suddenly seeing all these things."

"I can't think of why," he replies.

"Look, I don't work tomorrow," I tell him. "How about I take you back down to the carnival and see if they've cleared out yet?"

"What if they haven't?" he asks just above a whisper.

"Then I turn the car around, and we haul ass."

Link snickers softly. "Fine, but if I get caught and taken away, I'm blaming you," he tells me.

"It's a deal," I agree.

"Why don't you work on your magic for a while and get something to eat? I'll keep watch until I turn off. Just wake me in the morning, okay?"

"Sure, but you'll tell me if you dream again?"

"'Course."

"Link, do you ever feel… I don't know - blue when the sun starts to set?" I ask, rubbing my chest as if it would lift the heavy feeling that comes when night begins to draw itself into the world.

It takes a full minute, but Link does answer me. "I feel like I lost something - something important when twilight comes. I couldn't tell you what it is though; I don't even have an idea." There's a quick jerk of his shoulders when he shrugs. "But then again, maybe I wasn't supposed to have whatever that was to begin with."

**…**

The resident strong man of the carnival is a burly man, typical of those of Goron descent, and his bulky, muscular form leaves no question as to why he plays the role he does. He has wild platinum blond hair that sticks out every which way. Even his beard follows the same fashion as the unruly tufts on top of his head. He scratches at the side of his face, right next to his small ear, as he studies me with dark, beady eyes. He looks me up and down, asking Link, "Brother! Who is this?" His voice is booming, a fitting partner to his obvious physical power.

Link smiles up at the strong man, appearing to me to be more lanky and thin than ever compared to the giant Hyrulean. "This is Zelda," he replies.

The strong man quits his scratching and folds his arms across his chest. The man is so bulky, it's almost as if there's a full shelf there. He gives me another look over, even pivoting on his heels to look at me from other angles. I shake in my skin when he suddenly lets out a loud, robust laugh. "And here I thought if you were to ever get yourself a girl, it'd be Ilia," he roars. "Marin, maybe, if you were really desperate." Once his laughter dies a little, he leans over to Link and comments, "Honestly, she's a lot prettier than what I thought you could nab," to which Link scowls and pushes the strong man away by the face.

"That's funny, considering Mido thinks I'm something akin to a bokoblin," I say, trying to hide my embarrassment over the misunderstanding. I glance over at Link, who does nothing but continue to look a little perturbed by the strong man's comments.

"Darunia, has Fanadi come back yet?" Link asks.

The strong man goes back to messing with his beard, one hand rubbing his chin. "I think so," he says. "You know her; she plants herself wherever we set up."

"Nothing was found?"

"As far as I know, no," the strong man says. He lets both arms fall to his sides. "I think I better turn in for the night, Brother, I'm beat. I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Darunia," we both echo.

"Night," he says with a sweep of his large arm. Just under the rolled sleeve of his shirt, I can see a tattoo of the Goron crest, an elongated diamond with three triangles across the top edges. "It's good to meet you, Sister." And the strong man, Darunia, bounds away from us.

I turn to Link. "Does he always call everyone that?"

"What? 'Brother' and 'Sister'?" he says, beginning to take off through the carnival. "No. When it comes to Gorons, those that prove themselves to be worthy of high regard are considered to be sworn brothers to them."

"And why am I suddenly 'Sister' when I just met him?" I ask, jogging a little to catch up with Link's long strides.

"Because he thinks you're my girl," he laughs.

"And you did nothing to correct him."

"Did you not hear what he said to me?" Link asks me, disbelieving.

I shake my head when Link chuckles again. As we pass by a tent, Link raises a hand and waves to another carnie. By the tattooed green, scaly skin, I recognize him as the Lizafos man, and I ask Link about him. "He's pretty amazing," Link says. "You should see him perform sometime, love." He whips around to face me, continuing to make his way backwards. His voice is heavily laced with enthusiasm as he tells me, "He can swallow swords!" Link holds out his arm. "I'm telling you, I've seen him swallow some this long. Plus," he says with a wag of his finger, "he's a pretty fantastic fire breather."

"I take it his show sells well for you guys?"

"Oh, you bet!" he exclaims, swiveling on his heel to walk forward again.

We troop through the maze of tents, rides and wagons, cool night air a pleasant break from the usual summer heat we've had during the daytime. Hoots and catcalls sound from one tent as we pass by. I'm a little shocked, but Link doesn't seem at all effected, when lithe redhead pops out from the tent dressed provocatively. The showgirl's skimpy costume of sequins, feathers and tassels sparkle and swings as she approaches us. "Link," she calls, a cigarette in her hand. "You got a light?"

"Yeah," he grumbles, and digs in the pocket of his slacks. He tosses her packet of matches, and she eagerly plucks and lights one.

"Thanks," she says, tossing the pack back and lights her cigarette. She sucks in a puff on her cigarette and eyes me. She's the redhead that I saw sitting near us for the second radio announcement.

She turns her attention back to Link. "Your trio of nightmares have been waiting for you to turn back up, by the way. Did you see the takkuri flying around on your way in?"

This catches Link's interest. "A takkuri's been around here?" he asks.

"I saw it," I say. "I think a day or so after you arrived."

The redhead sniffs. "I think it's been eyeing Fanadi and all her crap."

"It could be eyeing your costume too." The redhead turns round on me, and I hear Link snicker at my side.

"I'm going to get out of this shithole," she announces. I sneak a glance over at Link, who's trying his hardest to hide his amusement at our exchange. "Mark me." With that said, she turns, cigarette smoke billowing out, and back into the tent.

"So," I say, "who was that?"

Link grimaces. "That, my dear, was Marin."

"She seems a little bitter."

"Just a little," Link agrees with a laugh, and motions for me to continue on our path back to his and Ilia's wagon.

Link bursts into the wagon with much bravado, exclaiming to a startled Ilia, "Returning from the dead-!"

"Link!" she screeches, smacking his head. "Don't do that!" Laughing all the while, he ducks another swipe, and then Ilia catches sight of me. "Oh, Zelda! You came back too!"

"Not for long, I'm afraid," I tell her. "I should be heading back to Castleton in a short while."

"Work?" she asks.

"Yeah," I say with a nod. "I'm a supervising operator up at Central."

Her eyebrows rise up. "Must be a really busy job," she comments. She shoots a glare over at Link, who only offers her a bashful grin. "Sounds like something that could keep _you_ out of trouble," Ilia says to Link.

"Hey," he says, his hands raised up as if in surrender. "I've seen it with my own eyes! Not a job that I want."

"You're a mess," she groans as Link settles into his chair. She shakes her head at him.

Turning to me again, Ilia asks me, "Zelda, you'll be back soon, right?"

* * *

><p>Something at least 7,500 words or so. I was going to keep going honestly. I'm going to ask this in <em>ZC<em> too, but do you guys like longer chapters? Longer chapters may take me a bit longer to churn out depending on how much of a drive I'm in to write, but of course, shorter chapters mean quicker updates. _Zombie Cake_ averages about 6,500 words per chapter, and this story had about 5,800 in the first chapter and 6,200 in the second. When I mean shorter, I'm talking like that size (6,000-ish), longer meaning about this length minimum but about eight-ninish (in thousands). What would you like to see? Let me know. More less? This?

Also, I've started up a blog, as when I've been talking some of you guys in PM's you've been curious about my doodling. The link is rumandthesea (dot) blogspot (dot) com. I've actually just posted a sketch of a humanized Ruto on there, doing her job as an operator. Looking hella bored. Haha. Check it out if you're interested.

Well, it's certainly been an interesting past month. New story, new blog, new tattoo and my third marriage proposal. Yes! Number three! Haha. Second one from a woman (by the looks of it?). I used to run a whole fucking web server guys. I was like eleven or twelve, just moved halfway across the country, had no friends and was being relentlessly bullied in my new school, so I taught myself HTML and CSS and a little JavaScript. This was like at least ten years ago. I had nothing to do, so I bought and ran a server, started several website domains dedicated to my webcomics, Zelda and the big one, my free-graphics. It got _big_-to the point where I actually had someone impersonating me and going around to my affiliate websites talking smack to them. It was a mess at first, then it was hilarious. Then I got my first two marriage proposals from random internet strangers.

And now you guys have the story.

Anyway, as always, I love hearing from you guys and talking to you! I'll see you in the next installment! Whaaaat. Got my first bug bite of the year already? UGH. BRING ON THE SCABS! ... Or maybe that's just my tattoo itching. I _hope_.

D:


	4. Branches Push Through the Walls

Coin-Operated

4.0

Branches Push Through the Walls

The days stretch by slowly. An endless eerie routine, it is. Wake up, get ready, work, home, dinner, magic wrangling. With still more to do in expanding my magical core, dread looms over me, low and testing. It's tiring, to say the least, to have to constantly look over my shoulder, check my flat for signs of intrusion and wonder if and when someone will come after my skin. It could be now, it could be later. I'm a walking target so long as I have this wild magic. I'm so close to having it all contained, but the process is long, and the process is painful. So very painful. To even think about it makes my chest lurch and ache. The wild magic is merely an added stress to the constant, tangible fear that stalks me each day.

I am ruled by my fear.

It angers me to no end to know it, but it is true. I am just like any other person in Hyrule, a scared, pathetic sheep. I keep my head bowed and hope that nobody notices me as each day passes, and so far my prayers have gone answered. This is the only thing left I have to be thankful for. The president's motives are not mine to know, but what he wanted was clear, and he's got it. I live in pure, unadulterated fear with my townsfolk, my co-workers, my neighbors. It's all the same.

There are days now when I come home from work, and I find Link sitting in my den watching passerby in the street below or sitting on my bed watching the sun set. I don't bother asking why he's suddenly in my flat or how he even got in in the first place. When Link comes, I know the carnival is not safe for him. I feel like I should offer him _something_ when he stays over, but the mechanical man, as he says, doesn't sleep, and he most certainly doesn't eat. All he needs is a seat to sit down in when the time comes for him to turn off. And when Link isn't brooding in my apartment, I can see him hovering around Central. On occasion, he'll even worm his way inside and watch the switchboard operators work and me skating by.

I think my eyes may be playing tricks on me, but when I see Link at the carnival, he is much more enthused - his glass eyes actually seem livelier, as strange as that may be. Of course, the difference between the glass and others' real eyes are apparent, but to see him in Castleton is the night to his day in the carnival. Even his hair seems duller and courser when in town. It's possible that it's only with the carnival that Link may truly come alive. He has his friends, his work – his life is centered around – within - the carnival, the carnies and their eccentric ways.

It's dreary, the way the days pass by.

"Have you ever seen the ocean, Zelda?" Link asks me one day. Twilight is moving in on us, dragging the two of us down like lead weights as we sit by the den window. Link slouches a little in his chair, his eyes following a young mother with her child in hand walk down the street.

"Can't say that I have," I respond. "I'd like to though. One day, if it's possible, but…" I shrug. "I think I'm stuck with just others' pictographs."

Tangerine orange bathes us from the window light. Link jiggles his legs some, the tapping of his feet muted by the rug underneath his shoes. "What do you want to do when you grow up?" he asks, scratching at the back of his head.

"You mean what I _wanted _to do?"

He shakes his head no. "What do you want to do?"

"I'd like to live by the sea. Smell the salty air in the breeze," I tell him. "Feel the sand under my feet. Compared to here, the sea seems so free."

"Nothing to rule it?"

I let out a low spurt of laughter. "Exactly."

I let my head lean back, staring up at the ceiling. I say to him, "I'm tired, Link."

"Go to sleep then."

I pull my head up. "I mean that I'm tired."

Link inclines his head, a strange regality in his features. His nose twitches. "I know," he says softly. "I know."

**…**

"Careful now, Sister," the strong man tells me, his large hand an iron weight on my shoulder. If his hand wasn't so firmly planted there, I think I might have just fallen over. "Just go slowly when you approach, and you'll be fine." He gives me an encouraging smile before removing his massive palm.

I move forward, inch by inch. My palms are sweating, and I can feel how my limbs shake with shivers. There's a _snap!_ and I freeze instantly. But nothing comes at me. I must be completely nuts to do this. I really must have gone mad at some point in the last couple of weeks. First a magic ban, then coin-operated boys, then magic training, and now I'm suddenly willing to feed a deku babba? The monster plant leers at me with as much caution as I give it. It snaps again, razor teeth glinting in the sun from within its bulbous head. This one isn't just a regular old, bluish-purple deku babba though, this one is golden. Its mouth is split into a cross opening on the bulb, and each time it gives me a small snap, it switches which way its mouth opens.

_Snap!_ Vertical.

I _must_ be going crazy.

_Snap!_ Horizontal.

I glance over at the strong man, Darunia, who is feeding the other deku babba with no fear. You would think he's just feeding some harmless, docile cucco with the way he's throwing around nuts for the babba to eat, and they eagerly gobble up what he throws.

When I am close enough to the golden deku babba, I toss up the handful of nuts into the air. With precision and speed, the deku babba lurches forward and clamps down on the nuts, just inches from my stomach. The snapping plant retreats, its long, slim stem wriggling a little in satisfaction as it bobs its golden bulb. For a moment, it's like a content puppy, although a lot more ugly.

"Having fun?" a voice calls, making me jump.

I turn and groan. "Must you always do that to me?" I ask Link as another _snap!_ sounds from the devilish plant.

Ignoring my comment, Link tells me, "Don't be so rigid, they pick up on that. That's why it's snapping so much at you."

"Deku babbas always snap," I retort flatly.

"These guys aren't just some random babbas you find out lurking wild in the forests," he tells me. "Besides, it's feeding time, and they should be more than compliant."

"_You_ don't have any feeling," I remind him.

He shrugs, the lopsided grin on his face hiding the laughter that's bubbling behind it. "True," he says, taking the bag of nuts from my hand that Darunia had given me. "Remember how I told you they always try to get me to feed these guys? They also don't know what to make of me." And as casual as ever, Link pulls out a fistful of nuts and chucks it at the golden deku babba.

Moving on to other hungry, less lethal deku babba, Link swiftly tosses them their feed. "So," he starts as if we're taking a leisurely walk, "how goes the wrangling?"

"Alright, I suppose." I shrug. "It just feels like I'm going to have a heart attack or something." Just remembering the feeling, my chest constricts a little. I look skyward, rubbing at my chest to soothe the pain. The takkuri is back, scouring the carnival with its large head bobbing. Watching. Waiting. Just like the rest of the country. And just like that, a flip of the switch, the flood gates of worry and anxiety begin to seep through me. Trying to contain my wild magic has been a slow process, and every day I find myself looking over my shoulder. Who else knows of it? Is there anybody watching me like the takkuri stalking the carnival?

Link breaks my reverie, his synthetic voice cutting through like a knife. "You alright, Zelda?" he asks, turning away from the deku babbas.

I hesitate. "I… I'm just-"

_Snap!_

I yelp in surprise, and Daruina whips around dropping his bag of nuts. "Link!" I screech, pointing.

"Huh?" He blinks.

Then he looks down, following my finger.

Darunia doubles over, laughter shaking him from the pit of his stomach and up through his chest, while Link yelps and tries to shake off the deku babba that had launched and attached itself to Link's arm. The plant has its large mouth clamped over Link's hand and wrist as well as the bag of nuts. Darunia gets ahold of himself, his laughter subsiding before he bounds over to help Link detach himself from the monster plant. With only one useable hand, Link struggles to pry the plant off, and he even resorts to punching the bulb of the plant. The monster refuses to yield though. The strong man, however, easily forces the plant's mouth wide open, releasing Link's captive hand.

Link checks over his arm, twitching his fingers, and flapping his hand around. Holes puncture around his arm, and he groans, picking at one. "Jeez, now I definitely have to go back to Mizuumi," he grumbles.

Darunia only chuckles. "Your arm still works okay, right?"

"Yuh," Link grunts. "At least I think so. Hope so." He shakes his arm out.

The strong man shakes with his soft laughter as he asks, "What happened? They never bite you; they only notice you when you actually throw them food."

"I think it was me," I offer. Darunia looks over at me, an eyebrow raised. "I uh... got nervous, I guess."

He grunts. "That will do it," he mutters. "At least they got Link, not you."

"Hey!"

Darunia slaps Link heartily on the back, causing the mechanical man to suddenly jerk and stumble forward, off-balance. The machine quickly regains his footing and shoots a glare at the resident strong man. "Brother, you wouldn't have even known you had one of them things hanging on you if that poor girl didn't have such a fright!" Darunia roars.

"Bother!" Link sneers, fingering one of the holes in his rubberish skin. The strong man claps Link on the back again, still chuckling again.

Darunia's mouth slides into a frown. "Uh-oh," he mutters. "Five o'clock, Link."

"What?" Link whips around and lets out a straggled cry like a wounded animal. "Well, Brother, it was good to see you this fine day, but I believe the lady and I have business," Link sputters, dusting off his shirt and looking frantically between me, Darunia and whatever on-coming horror there is.

Grabbing me by the wrist, Link begins to steer me away when Darunia calls back, "'Business'? Don't you lack the necessary equipment for that?"

I slam right into Link, and he reels, disgruntled disbelief on his face. Darunia sputters with laughter, and I can feel my whole face burning up. Link frowns. "Can it!" he growls, but Darunia only continues to shake with laughter. "Ah, shit," Link mumbles, shooting his glare over my shoulder. Darunia quickly makes a point to give his attention to the deku babbas, but I can tell he's still cracking up with the way his shoulders shake.

I turn my head and see none other than the three star-struck girls. The one in green approaches us first. "Link!" she calls, and Link doesn't do much to contain his groan. "We were wondering if you would go play Purlo's new game with us."

"Sorry, Hannah, but I've got some other matters to attend to," Link tells the girl in green. Is it just my imagination or do those three move as one? As if simultaneously, I see each of them slide their eyes over to me to shoot me a triple glare.

The three then briefly exchange glances before the one in red speaks up. "But Link, you promised us you'd play it when Purlo finally got it set up."

"Look, another time. I really have to go," Link insists, tugging me along as he makes a hasty retreat. I sneak a glance at Darunia, and he smiles wryly and gives a nod to the trio.

Once we're a distance away, I ask Link, "So who exactly are they? I've run into them before."

"Hannah, Misha and Kili. They're acrobats," Link lists off in one go. "Misha's the one in red, and Kili blue. Marin likes to refer to them as my 'trio of nightmares'," he says, a little chuckle escaping.

"I can see why," I mumble. "Can I have my arm back?"

"Hm? Oh! Sure, love." And he lets me go.

He takes me to the outskirts of the carnival, and plops himself down in the grassy plains. "Sit," he tells me, leaning back on the palms of his hands. I sigh and take a seat on the ground. The high grass pokes and itches at my skin.

"Sorry about the deku babba," I say.

He shrugs. "It's alright; it happens. I just hope nobody notices the holes until I can get Mizuumi to patch them up."

"Mizuumi," I repeat. "That's that professor guy, right? The one that made your body?"

"Yeah," Link says. "He's kind of a whacko, but…" Link shrugs again.

I fall back into the grass. I cast my eyes inward and see the remaining magic, tugging to free itself from my magical core. "There's actually not a lot left to do," I tell Link.

"What? With your magic?" he asks absently. He watches the sky intently, and I look up as well, squinting in the sunlight. The takkuri is back, circling the air not far off from us. Its large head and eyes scan the field.

"Yeah."

Link nods, his eyes locked on the takkuri scouring the sky. "That's good, dear."

The takkuri lets out a squawk, and beating its wings and bobbing its head, it flies off away from the carnival.

Link pops up from the ground. "Actually, love, let's go," he says.

"Go where?"

"Back into town," he says gruffly. "Come on." Link shoots off back towards the carnival, and I scramble to get back on my feet and catch up with him. His pace is brisk, and I struggle to stay in step with him. We weave through the tents, carnies and the guests to make our way back to the front of the carnival. Link's eyes drift over the crowds as he pulls to a stop. His head swivels one way, then the other, and in the next moment, he's shooting off towards the archway entrance.

Mido sits there on a stool at the entrance, another carnie across from him. Seeing us approach, Mido frowns and waves another carnie over to man the gate entrance. He hobbles over with his cane striking the ground with each step. "Whaddya want?" he snaps at Link.

"We're leaving. We'll be back in the morning," Link says.

Mido snorts, tugging at the tweed cap on his head with one hand. "Chuh! You're losing me money, you know that?" he accuses. The can strikes the ground. "I ought to just take down your poster."

"Do it then!"

"Look, bubs, we're making money here, and I can't have you floating off whenever you just damn well please."

"Yes, we're making money in one of the most dangerous places in Hyrule right now," Link hisses back.

Mido's eyes slide around, taking in our surroundings. Mine, too, begin to flit around to see who might be eavesdropping. Neither Mido nor I see anybody taking notice of us, and Mido continues, "You'd better be back."

When we finally reach my car, I hop into the driver's seat and wait for Link to slide in next to me before starting it up. Once on the road back to Castleton, the silence still hangs between us, so I speak up, "Why're you having us go back?"

"I don't like that takkuri," Link says.

"It probably just likes all the lights and such from the carnival," I reply with a shrug. "They like that sort of stuff, you know? Anything that shines or sparkles, they want."

"That's not it," Link says grimly, throwing his gaze out the passenger window.

**…**

"Link, aren't you hungry at all?"

Link perks up a little, pulling his head from where it was resting on his hand while he stared out the window. He shakes his head and pulls his arm off the table. "No, I'm fine," he says gently. Link's eyes drift back out the window to where passerby flit and whiz on by us, stationary in the booth.

Ruto purses her lips for a moment before digging back into her dinner.

It was just our luck that when I stopped for gas, we run into Ruto, who was on her way home from Central. She suggested we try this diner that she discovered recently, and although we were reluctant (mostly because of Link's current lack of a stomach and other digestive organs), Link and I ended up agreeing.

I poke at my food. This place is certainly a change from the one Ruto and I had eaten at during lunch one day, but the change in atmosphere around us doesn't put to rest my unease, and I can see that the same goes for Link. Most of the patrons here are Hylian, but speckled in are few Goron and Zora. Glancing around the diner itself, I can see that while most of them try to appear perky, there's a hallowed looked in their eyes that betray them; others simply don't even bother trying to hide their fear or weariness from the recent events.

Link sits a little straighter in the booth, and I'm bumped by his elbow. "Eat," he says to me under his breath. I look up at Ruto, who pushes through her dinner. For the first time, I notice what cosmetics have been hiding. There's the smallest hint of a dark circle under one eye where the make-up has been smudged. I quit my picking and begin to try and shovel something down into my stomach.

"They were at Central today," Ruto says, her voice a thin thread in the air.

I about drop my fork, but Link nudges me again, not even taking his eyes from the window view. Was he suspecting this all along? I take another bite while Ruto pushes the remainder of her mashed potatoes around her plate. Her eyes scan the diner, but it's not as if anyone is actively trying to listen in on our conversation.

She sighs, plucking a chunk of the potatoes off the plate. "They just stormed in, had us line up in sections, so at least people could get their calls through." There's a shudder in her breath, and she goes back to pushing the potatoes around.

"What'd they do?" Link asks. "Like, what'd they bring with them?"

Ruto shrugs. "I have no idea what they were," she tells us. "Some of them had these weird magnifying glasses or something, and they sort of ran it over it us. I guess they didn't find anything, because once they looked everybody over and checked all the offices, they left. It didn't feel right though, being looked over," she says. A shiver runs its course through her shoulders and arms. "It was cold."

I look over at Link, and he still hasn't taken his eyes off the passerby. His mouth, however, has thinned into a deep set frown.

Ruto makes small talk with us for the rest of the time, or rather with me as Link falls silent and says nothing else until we say our good-byes when we leave. With one fleeting, hesitating glance back at us, her hair whipping at her cheeks and lips, Ruto makes her way down the street. Her heels clack on the concrete in soft taps, fading into the growing noise of the city's streets.

Link and I crisscross through the winding Castleton streets back to where we left the car. I slide in with ease, itching to just get home, but Link stands on the sidewalk, staring into the car. Sighing, I lean over and roll the window down. "Just get in, will you? What's wrong?" He takes a tentative step forward, pauses and then shakes his head. "Link." He glances up and down the street, and then gets into the passenger seat. He rolls the window up as the car takes off.

The car is void of the sound of our voices for the ride, only the purring of the engine sounds as we drive back to my apartment. I pull off on a perpendicular road to the house to reach the alleyway behind it. The car lurches and jumps along the cobblestones that line the alley, and Link throws a hand up to keep himself from jerking with the car until we finally come to a rest behind the house.

With twilight hanging overhead, we slip into the house through the back door and sidle up the stairs to my apartment. At my heels is Link when I move to open the door, but the electric shock that runs through my right hand when I place it on the handle is immediate, and I recoil. And then it comes. Black, stiff and leathery, the wings of warning beat with an unusual ferocity when I suck in a breath and open the door. There's a screeching inside of me as the wings flail about, cawing for the wrongness of my surroundings. It thrashes and writhes as each pump of my heart drums in my head.

But nothing is out of place here. Everything is just as I left it. There are dishes still to be cleaned sitting in my kitchen sink, the blanket on the couch still lies haphazardly across the sofa from where Link last threw it from the chair by the bay window he'd claimed. My bed is still the unmade mess I made in my hurry. Even my toothbrush still sits in the cup on the bathroom sink. Nothing has been disturbed or touched. Not a single thing is out of place in my flat. Not even the specks of dust.

But all of this is wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

Link stands stock still at the doorway where I left him. I spin him around and shoo him down the stairs, throwing him my keys as he goes. I stand in the doorway, shifting on my feet and mulling over my next move as the wings calm down in my recognition and acknowledgement. The steady flap of the leathery feathers still remains, however, in reminder. I need to move. I _have_ to make a move. I decide to leave it almost as it is; I grab what funds I have squirreled away and hurry after Link.

When I fly out the door and into the twilight, Link already has the car started, his hands braced on the wheel. Flinging the door open, I throw myself into the car. Link peels us out of the alley, the soft beating of the warning wings still sounding in alarm.

I shiver in my seat.

"Finish it," Link says evenly.

I nod and close my eyes, setting out to work on roping in the last of the wild magic, but it's already too late.

They've been here, and they're looking for me.

**…**

Safety is an elusive thing. We drive around Castleton aimlessly, not knowing where to go, what to do. Link is wary of returning to the carnival. I know the takkuri still lurks in his mind, I can see it in the way he wears his face with a set determination. A grunt escapes me when the car hits a pothole, and I'm jostled, but Link trucks on.

In a start, I shout and point, "Turn here!"

Link does as I say, and questions me. "Where you want to go?"

"The only place nearby to be too isolated to be bothered with," I tell him, the gears in my mind turning in haste. "We need to go to the ranch. We can stay with my friend Malon there," I say, closing my eyes. Everything has been drained from me by the wild magic. My vision flickers as I struggle to keep my eyes open, and then I add, "We can see if the takkuri is still hanging around the carnival when we go by."

"Right."

It's as good of an option as we've got.

We fill the gas tank one last time before making the journey out of the city, and Link tells me to sleep off my exhaustion. "Did you finish it?" he asks me, sliding back into the car.

"I did," I sigh. It really is a relief. I rub my chest, the tightness in it slowly ebbing away.

"I'll wake you up when get close to the carnival, okay?"

I nod. "Sure." I dig into my pocket and find a small coin. "Here," I say, holding it out. "I don't want you turning off anytime soon."

Link chuckles and takes the coin from me. He slumps down in the driver's seat and fumbles with the buttons on his shirt. I ask him if he needs any help, but he shakes his head, and I notice how his hair seems to be duller than usual. It almost looks scratchy too, not the usual silkiness that I usually see. The clacking of the coin going down the slot follows soon after, and Link buttons his shirt back up.

It's awhile before we see the blinking and twinkling lights of the carnival, shining bright in through the dark field. I sit up a little straighter in the seat, craning my neck to see through the night. The car slows as we approach, and Link, too, is scanning the carnival intently. But we see nothing out of place. If there is something out there, like the takkuri, the night does not betray it. Lights flickers and flash, and hoots and screams of delight bolt through the air. Momentum is picked up as Link pushes down on the gas, and we drive away from the carnival, leaving the lights and laughter behind.

We say nothing to each other until we reach the ranch, and I direct him in the dark on where to park by the house. The soft glow of light moves through the house, and the front door opens as we step out of the car. Malon stands in the doorway, squinting at us. Her jaw drops, and her eye grow wide when she recognizes me. "Zelda!" she calls out. Her feet make their way down the steps of the porch with caution for the dark. When she feels the solid ground beneath her feet with sureness, she bolts towards us. Oil inside the lamp in her hand sloshes around, and the flame flickers.

"Malon!" I exclaim, winding my arms around her, careful of the oil lamp.

She clasps me with one arm, and then pulls away. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

I shoot a glance over at Link, and he shakes his head. Turning back to Malon, I tell her, "I can't really tell you right now, I'm sorry. But is it alright if we stay here for the night? We don't have any place else at the moment."

Malon looks up, noticing Link for the first time as darkness had hidden him from her. "Of course!" she says. "I've told you before, you always have a place here." She nods over at Link. "But you haven't told me who this is."

"This my friend Link," I reply.

Malon nods in greeting to him and motions for us to follow her inside. "Watch your feet," she warns as we walk up the steps of the porch and into the house.

Once in the house, Malon fetches another oil lamp and lights it for us. She shushes us as we head up the stairs and tells us goodnight before slipping into her own bedroom. We try to keep our footsteps light on our way to the spare bedroom. I set the oil lamp onto the nightstand. Clacking on the wooden floor as he goes, Link moves towards the windows and peers out while I dig in my pocket. "Do you have another coin?" Link asks me, not tearing his eyes away from the outside world shrouded in shadow.

Poking around for a coin of small denomination, I say, "Looking for one right now." I finally pluck one out and hand it to him. He nods, and turns back away from me.

I pull my shoes off and slip in between the sheets. I sniff lightly, shifting on my side and watching the door. The bed creaks and groans, and I feel myself falling back a little when Link sits down on the bed. I open my mouth to say something, but his intuition beats me to it, him saying, "Just go to sleep. I'll keep watch and wake you in the morning."

**…**

_Smack_!

I jump, jostling the bed, which squeals in protest from the sudden movement.

A chuckle drifts into my ears. "Sorry," Link says. "I didn't mean to scare you. I took another coin, by the way."

Rubbing my eyes, I sit up and try to shake the grogginess I feel. I glance around the room taking it in. Everything is like I remember it being from previous visits and the night before; even Link looks as though he has not moved from his seat on the bed, but from what he says, I know it a lie. The only change is the bright sunshine flowing through the windows. "How are you feeling?" Link asks me as I swing my feet out and over the side of the bed. Just by sitting up, my chest constricts.

"Like I've been sucked dry, but better," I say with a yawn. "I feel like I have more energy today."

"Well you did expend a lot yesterday," Link points out. "You'll probably feel even better as the day goes on."

"I hope so." I turn inwards, seeing my newly expanded core swirling within me. Strings of gold line the core, perfectly contained. There's not one thread of the new gold magic worming its way out of my core. Everything is finally right where it belongs. Or is it? Where the new magic sprung from is still a mystery, and what's even more puzzling to me is how I didn't even see it creep up on me. You'd think something as sensitive and personal as magic wouldn't slip on by somebody.

"I was dreaming," I say at last. "I think I was falling."

"Falling?"

"Like I was pushed or something. I remember it being really bright and hot."

"Nothing else?"

I think about it. I can still feel the lingering fingers of heat stroking my skin from my dream world, but I don't know what it was. A fire, maybe? Sounds logical enough, but then again, it was a dream. Dreams don't have to make sense at all. But the feet. Feet? That's right. There was a stampede of feet, and that's what pushed me down. "I want to say fire," I tell Link, "but I don't know for sure, but I remember feet. A large group of people were marching, and one of them pushed me down." I shrug. "That's all I got."

Link grunts, rising up from the bed. The coils squeak underneath. "Come on, let's get you something to eat. I want to go back to the carnival soon," he says, heading for the door.

"Why? What about the takkuri?"

He hesitates, pausing in step. Then he shakes his head. "I just have a feeling" is all he says when walks out of the room.

Malon greets us with cheer when we get into the kitchen. "I made some eggs and bacon," she says, cutting the gas from the stove. "There's some bread and goat cheese from Ordon on the table too." Malon waves a hand, gesturing to the table. Then she slides the eggs and the bacon onto a platter and sets it onto the table.

"Where's Talon and Ingo?" I ask, approaching the table.

"They're out tending to the cucco and the cows," she says, flinging open the cupboards for plates and glasses for us. I help her out, taking the plates she hands me, and set them on the table. "I have to go let the horses out of the stalls," Malon tells us, wiping her hands on her apron. "If you need anything, I'll be out by the corral."

We both take a seat at the table as Malon flies out of the kitchen. Link and I exchange bemused looks over the food. A small smile on his lips, he asks me, "Think you can eat for two?"

"Gonna have to try," I say, pulling the platter over to me.

It takes quite a while, but I'm able to shovel down a good amount of food. My stomach is stretched beyond belief, and I rub it. "I wonder if this is what it feels like to be pregnant," I comment, and Link snickers from across the table. He nudges the glass of Lon Lon milk towards me. I groan. "I don't know if I can finish that last bit, Link."

"Try."

I sigh and am able to knock it back, to my surprise, but my full belly protests the new addition sloshing around.

Link slams his hands on the table and pulls himself up from the chair. "Let's get these dishes taken care of and then head out of here," he says, tugging on a sleeve of his shirt. The holes in his rubber skin are more pronounced in the daylight.

With only portions of the bread and Ordonian cheese left, I help Link get all the dishes in the sink, and while he sets to work cleaning them, I wrap up the leftovers for Malon. Link and I quickly knock out the dishes and head outside to find Malon. We pass by Talon, Malon's father and the ranch owner, who is sitting among a gaggle of cucco with a bag of seed, and wave. He waves back, the birds clucking and strutting away at his feet. He tosses out another handful of seed.

"Malon!" I call out once we reach the corral. With her bright red hair, the young woman is easy to spot anywhere the sun shines on her. She waves us inside, and Link and I slip on through the gate. The horses graze lazily, flicking their tails as they bend down to chew on the grass.

When we approach, Malon offers us a rueful smile. "On your way out, I suppose?"

"Yeah."

"Zelda, what's going on?"

I'm hesitant to answer, but when I open my mouth, Link's voice instead sounds. "They've created a task force to essentially confiscate anything magical that's deemed a threat," Link tells her. "They've been sending out more and more squads."

Malon's mouth moves into a tight frown at this news. Her eyes flick over to me in an accusing glare, demanding answers.

"We came back to my apartment yesterday, and I'm sure they've been in there."

"The squads?"

"Yes."

"What would they find in there?"

Glancing over at Link, I let out a sigh. "Remember what I told you the last time I came by?" I ask her.

"I do," she says matter-of-factly with a nod of her head.

I don't offer her any more of an explanation, but the way we look at each other, I know she understands. Malon nods her head at me, and turns to an approaching horse. It neighs, commanding that her attention be directed toward it. Chuckling to herself, Malon rubs the horse's nose and says to us, "Don't worry. I know what to do."

"Thank you, Malon."

"It's only what you'd do for me."

**…**

"Brother! Sister!"

Link lets out a bout of laughter. "Darunia!" he calls back, and the strong man bounds over towards us as we walk through the entrance of the carnival.

I give a small wave to Mido at the entrance, but he only snarls at me and turns firmly away. I roll my eyes and pick up the pace to catch up to Link and Darunia. I'll never understand that man's problem. Mido's just so sour. But I'm definitely curious, although the only way for that to be quenched is if Link would actually open up to me about something personal for once.

Darunia pulls both Link and I into one armed hugs, crushing us against his chest. While I choke, Link laughs out, "Don't break me now! I don't want Mizuumi to have to start from scratch!"

It's like the rumbling of an avalanche the way the strong man's own laughter rockets through him. He releases us, and I immediately begin sucking in new breaths of air. Link merely readjusts his shirt and suspenders. Darunia eyes Link's plain outfit before commenting, "You know, you haven't performed in so long, I almost forget what you look like with that nice tux of yours."

Link laughs. "I think I blend a little more in this though."

Darunia throws his gaze around the surrounding crowds of people. He snorts. "I hate to be your messenger of bad news, but Marin's been looking for you ever since you took off yesterday." His arms bulge with muscle more prominently when he crosses them. Darunia admits to us, "I was a little worried about you. I thought something might have happened."

"We're fine, Brother," Link says, the smile on his face wide.

"Well, be careful," the strong man tells us in a low tone.

This makes Link's smile slip. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"

Darunia waves it off. "Oh, nothing," he grumbles. "I only told Marin that you took off to elope with this here sweetheart," he says with much endearment, pinching my cheek and giving my head a slight shake. I laugh and wiggle out of his grasp.

"Oh sure," Link spits. "She laughs when _you_ do that."

"You just don't have _my_ kind of charm, sir," Darunia says, a thumb jutted out to his chest. I snicker when I see the scowl on Link's face.

"You're a terrible friend," Link informs him.

Darunia only laughs at this. "That's just fine," he says, pulling me into another one armed hug. "I can take this little sweetheart off your hands then." There's a bump of silence following Darunia's statement before all three of us burst into a fit of giggles like schoolchildren.

Link's the first to quit his laughing, however. "Zelda, we better run."

Darunia throws his head back to glance behind him and mutters a "Yup." He lets me go and gives me a little push. "I'll head her off," he promises, bounding away with heavy steps.

"Come on, love," Link says, already taking off. I hurry to catch up to him as he says, "Let's get lost in the mirror house for a while."

"Sounds fun," I say as we weave through the throngs of people moving from tent to tent, stall to stall. "You know," I say, "you haven't called me one of those pet names in a while."

"I haven't?" Link says.

"I think it's been a full day, actually."

"Oh dear," Link says, a faux horror in his voice. "That's absolutely terrible! I must apologize. I'd hate to make you think I'm neglecting you."

I laugh.

It really is like a switch. Link's home and heart is where ever this carnival is. It's only here that I truly see him come alive to the point where I could actually mistake him to be human, my only reminder of the machine that he is being the spurring of gears and a hiss of what he called hydraulics.

He leads me into the winding mirror house. Being towards the back of the carnival, there are a lot less people in here, allowing ample room for us to maneuver around in. Laughing as we go, Link and I play and pose in front of mirrors that stretch us long and tall. I wiggle a little in front of it, watching my long, lanky arms change length. Link moves on to another mirror, snickering when he sees the result. I sidle up behind him and laugh with him. While he's not of exceptional height, he is only maybe an inch or two shorter than the average man. The mirror, however, plays with his height and squashes him down. His thin stature puffs out, giving him an unusual pot belly.

"Oh!" Link exclaims. "You have to see this!"

Link leads me through the maze of mirrors to a row of black walls with holes in it. "Just set your face in one," Link tells me. I give him a skeptical look, and then choose one. The hole is so high up that my chin barely reaches, so I have to step up on the small ladder to stick my face in. The laughter bubbles up before I can stop it. A mirror reflects back at me my face on the body of a gun slinging, plump little girl in a puffy, pink dress. Above my head, I can see I'm adorned with a Bo Peep style pink hat.

"Do they all have something funny like this?" I ask.

"One of them is a strong man," Link says, and he begins poking his head through several of them to find it. "This one!" I stick my face up into the hole where my wide grin bounces back to me. There I am, on the body of a strong man in a strange leopard print loincloth wrestling with a pit of snakes.

"Where on earth did you all come up with these? They're fantastic!"

"I only wish we had one of the Lizalfos man," Link laughs.

"By the way, you never did tell me what we were fleeing from at the entrance."

Link grimaces a little as we stick our faces in a double one. Link has to bend down a little for this one, but for my short self, it's at the perfect height. It's funny, really, seeing his scowl and my laughing face on the body of Siamese twins attached at the hip and torso with three legs. An accordion is being squashed between the two arms. Link's sour face lessens a little, and he tells me, "This one was modeled after the Evelyn sisters."

"And do they play accordion?" I ask.

"Oh yes! And the piano and guitar – it's kind of amazing to see them play one man instruments when one controls one arm and the other twin the other arm," Link says, pulling his face out.

"Now, Link, about our quick escape…?"

"Marin was hightailing her way over," he finally admits.

"What's her deal?" I ask as we stick our heads into another double one, me bending over this time to reach the lower hole. A giggle escapes me when I see Link's face on a milkmaid and mine on the cow.

Link chuckles and pulls his head out of the hole in the wooden wall. "It's really not that big of a secret that she doesn't like you."

"Like Mido?"

"He's actually a pretty big softie," Link says. "He just doesn't want anybody to know."

I can't help but snort. "Yeah, sure."

Link leads the way out of the mirror tent, pushing aside the flaps to let the warm summer sunshine into the mirror tent. I step outside after him, asking him, "Where to next?" He's trying to keep me distracted, from what, I'm not sure. My eyes scan the skyline of the carnival for any signs of the takkuri, but see none.

The mechanical man only shrugs. "Where ever you'd like," he says, a lopsided grin adorning his face.

We walk around in no particular direction, squeezing through groups of people eager to see the circus acts. As we slide through one particular cluster of people, a voice rings out above the crowd calling for Link. Finding the source, Link plasters a grin on his face and shouts back, "Purlo!"

"So those three have been telling me that you'll try my new game," Purlo says as he comes to a stop in front of us.

"Another time," Link says, taking my arm and starting to pull me away.

The other carnie's head darts to the side as he lets out a sigh. "Well then, of course!" he exclaims suddenly as he turns back to us, a new smile finding its way on his face. "Until next time!" he says, and he disappears back into the throng of people.

"I don't think I like him much," I tell Link as we move away from Purlo's tent.

Airy laughter explodes from Link, and he shakes his head. "I don't either," he says. "Purlo's a bit of a conman," Link tells me in a whisper. "I beat him out twice on his impossible games, and now he dreads each time I show up at his tent."

"How'd you win it if it's impossible?"

"Lady," he exclaims with more force behind his voice and a smile on his lips, "I'm a machine! What can't I do?"

** …**

In the mess tent, many of the carnies are crammed in at the tables with a few empty seats poking around here and there. The carnival may not rest, even at night, but when night falls comes the reprieve for many of them. Under the dim lights, laughter and conversation is exchanged. I'm squashed between the strong man, Darunia and Ilia at the table. The whole bench wobbles whenever Darunia lets out a booming laugh. Even my silverware clatters on my plate when he laughs. Ilia is laughing with him, but her face falls and hardens a little when she looks up and see Marin approaching.

"Oh, look who it is," Marin says with disdain. The plate of food she has in her hands slaps onto the table and she takes her seat.

"If you don't like the company, you can find another seat," Darunia snaps right back.

Marin snorts. "As if I'd be able to find one," she replies with a wave of her hand. The redhead digs into her dinner. "Where's your friend?"

"He doesn't need to eat," Ilia says.

My eyes scan the tent, but I see no hide or hair of Link among the crowd. He'd told Ilia, he planned on shutting off soon, but the second she had her back turned to us, he slipped his hand into the pocket of my dress to snatch a coin from me. He gave me a wink, a silent way to tell me not to mention this, and slid out into the growing darkness.

Marin snaps at me, "What?" It's only then do I realize that in my reverie, I'd been staring at her.

"Nothing," I say, and I go back to poking at the dinner the carnies where kind enough to provide for me. Noticing that Ilia and Darunia's plate both have next to nothing on them, I scramble to shovel down my food. Once I've finished, the three of us get up to take care of our plates, and all the while, I can feel Marin's glare drilling into my back. I shiver a little.

Darunia bids us a goodnight outside the mess tent, and wanders off to his wagon. Ilia and I wave as he turns to go before Ilia leads me in another direction from Darunia. "You're staying here tonight, right?"

"Yeah, if that's okay. Something came up back in town," I tell her.

Ilia's head turns, and she studies me for a moment and then nods. "I get it," she says. She waves her hand, "Come on. You can have the bed if you'd like."

"That's alright; I'll be fine on the floor."

When we reach Link and Ilia's wagon, to Ilia's surprise and my expectations, Link is absent. "That's odd," she says, looking around the small wagon. "He said he was probably going to shut down soon. Did he say anything to you?"

I shake my head. Sorry Ilia.

"Well, maybe he'll turn up soon," she says, opening her trunk. She pulls out an extra blanket for me, and then turns to her bed and tosses me a pillow.

"Thanks," I say and settle down on the floor. Ilia shuts out the light in the wagon and hops into her bed. Look up at the window and the little stars spotting the night sky, I snuggle into the blanket as worry gnaws at my insides.

I don't know what you're up to, but Link, don't be stupid.

* * *

><p>8,205.<p>

That's a lot. I had written way more, but, I wrote the end part (or what I thought was the end), and then realized as I went back to fill in the event leading up to it, that it comes way later. So a good portion of the next chapter is already done. I have like writer's ADD with this story, hopping back and forth between stuff.

Anyway, I have a date with my friend's soon to be four-year-old to play Wind Waker (I'm about to enter the Tower of the Gods, and he's just so excited). He keeps telling me that for his birthday we need to get a toy and a cake. From Wal-Mart. And I'm to make the cake there. And it has to be chocolate. He said this last year, and it's still funny, but he still can't remember any store but Wally. He can tell you all about Zelda though now. He watched me and his dad play through Twilight Princess a little bit, but then he really got into it when they got Skyward Sword for Christmas. He likes telling me how to go kick Moblin butt. "OH NO! Link watch out!"

On another note, my nephew went to Disney World. He's three too, and he completely destroyed any sanctity Disney had when he punched Mickey Mouse in the face. He didn't like the way Mickey hugged him or something. He was all so proud when he told me about it.

Toddlers!

:s


	5. Bright Bright Bright

Coin-Operated

5.0

Bright Bright Bright

"Zelda? Zelda!"

"Wha-what?" I cry out, startled from my sleep. My head whips around as my eyes try and take in my surroundings. Dark. I can feel the stirring of the wings of warning again. Dark dark dark. The wings start their beating, and the initial cawing fills my ears. I look inwards briefly, just to make sure everything is contained in my core, and it is, but I see something new. The wings of warning are stemming from the new golden magic. I shake my head, and bring my sight back out. Out. Link crouches beside me, and I remember that I'm still at the carnival. Glancing up, I see the window alight with orange. Orange? Orange! That's not sunlight. There's no way that's sunlight. "Link! What's going on?" I ask. The panic within me swells with the flurrying black wings. How long have I been asleep? What's happened in that small window of time?

"We have to go. Where's Ilia?"

"She-!" I look over at the bed behind Link and see that it's empty of any occupant. The covers have been thrown back and the sheets are mussed, and that's the only evidence that remains that Ilia really was here at some point. "I don't know!" I choke, feeding on Link's sense of urgency. I quickly shove my feet into my shoes and scramble to my feet, saying, "She was here when I went to sleep."

Link swears softly, and he pops up onto his feet. A swishing of gears sounds. I look out the window, and my heart begins to pick up its pace from what I see. The soft spurring hits my ears again, and Link tugs on my dress to get my attention. "Zelda, come on," he says in a commanding tone. "Is there anything you need to grab?" he asks me, and I quickly pat my dress pockets. I still have my money. I nod; that's all we'll really need. The keys to my car have officially been rendered useless and unusable from now on, I'm sure. He throws open the door to the wagon, and I scurry after Link.

He leads me through the maze of the carnival, his head whipping in every direction as we move, looking for any familiar face. Mine, too, darts every which way while keeping one eye on Link so I don't lose him. My eyes itch in the white heat. We see no one; a good portion of the wagons have been left abandoned, the doors flung wide open. It's not long before breathing becomes difficult for me. With each swooping intake of air, my throat and lungs burn a little more in protest.

The flames blaze, hot, red, orange and angry. My throat chokes up from the smoke, and I shield my eyes. I stumble in the grass, tripping over debris, but Link grabs ahold of my arm and pulls me along. His grip is firm as he guides me through the blazing tents and wagons. My eyes are watering, and the intense heat alone makes it difficult to breathe, never mind the smoke.

Link drops my arm, and I flail wildly after him without success. I sway on my feet, lost and confused. I feel nothing but the heat of the growing wildfire searing my skin as I grapple uselessly at the air, trying to find anything solid that I can feel. Something, anything tangible at all. Just to know I'm not lost to the world, doomed to be swallowed up by hungry fire. I rub my stinging eyes. Link, where have you gone?

Cold. Wet.

I shiver, choking on the cool liquid that coats me. Water? I blink. Link takes hold of me, and a surge power rushes through me. I feel him smooth back my wet mop of hair. "This'll help," he says, tossing one bucket aside, and picks up the other at his feet.

"I thought you'd left me!" I cry.

Link pulls me along through the tents, shooting a grin back at me. "Never," he says. "Not again." The bucket sways in his hand, the water sloshing inside of it.

Shouts sound from ahead of us, and Link immediately stops dead in his tracks. I stumble a little as I walk straight into him. We backpedal, and Link pulls me around the side of a wagon that hasn't caught fire yet. "Underneath," he instructs me, and we both crawl under the wagon, Link pushes the bucket along. The dry, dehydrated grass of the field scratches at my wet skin as I settle in under the wagon, watching as the flames begin to engulf a tent in the distance to our left. I catch my breath, sucking in what I can.

Yells bellow out above everything else raging through the air, strong and defiant. It takes me a moment, but then I recognize the voice as Mido's, the short man with the cane, the one responsible for managing the carnival. I glance over at Link in fear; his eyes are fixed straight ahead and his mouth in a grim, straight line. I pull my attention to what's at hand in front of us and see nothing at first. Then the pattering of footsteps come bounding from around the wagon before us. The short legs. The small feet. It can only be Mido.

I open my mouth to call out to him, but Link deftly flings a hand over my mouth. I glance at him. His eyes wide, he shakes his head and mouths, "No." My eyes bounce between Mido's small feet pulling to a stop, him heaving to catch his breath, and Link, who only whispers to me, "We're too late."

Mido's feet begin to trip over themselves as he tries to hurry off, but the stampede storms into view. The drumming in my head and chest and the beating of the warning wings make the sounding shouts almost impossible to hear. Mido makes impact with the ground. White noise. It's all white noise coming from the stampeding feet. They scream in demanding tones, and Mido's voice rings back out in rough defiance as he struggles to get up onto his feet.

Oh Mido!

The succeeding blasts deafen even the drumming noise inside my head and the wings of warning. The seconds that follow the blasts are silent. The beating of my heart stops, and the warning wings take the moment to stretch wide.

The resounding inner crash of noise inside me breaks out when I see Mido strike the ground face down in a heap, his tweed cap flying off of his head. I move to crawl out from under the wagon to go to him, but Link's hand latches onto the back of my dress, and he pulls me back. "Not yet," he hisses. I whip my head back to where Mido lays still on the ground when the stampede of feet pulls up in front of us. There's a chatter of talk from them, and then I see the men set the small tent in front of us ablaze. I'm startled and jump when I see red hot embers flying down around us. Link shakes his head, begging me not to move. Is he insane? He shakes his head again, his hand still maintaining its grip on the fabric of my dress.

The group of men files past us and Mido on the ground. We wait long after the thunder of their feet passes before Link and I crawl out from under the burning wagon, Link dragging the bucket of water with him. I'm barely halfway up on my feet when I collapse at Mido's side. I reach out to him, but recoil when I notice the dark stains on his jacket. The water sloshes in the bucket as Link sets it down again, and he rolls Mido onto his back. Ruby red covers the front of Mido's white shirt, blooming through the smeared grass and dirt stains.

"Shit," Link mutters, looking Mido over. He looks around and whispers, "Mido. Mido! Come on." Link pats Mido's cheek, and the short man's eye flicker open. Looking at Mido's face, Link frowns.

"Oh," the short man croaks. "It's you two."

"Link! We have to get him out of here," I say, tugging on Link's sleeve and glancing at the wagon we were under. The flames are slowly consuming it, and the warning wings are screeching their alarm for us to keep moving, to get out of the path of this destruction. I sneak a glance inward and see their rapid beating, but the gold magic has also formed something new. A wall of intricate gold vines now covers my core, shielding me. With each beat of the warning wings, the vines thicken and pulse with my magical core. I snap my eyes back to the reality at hand, and say again, "Link."

But Link doesn't move, doesn't take his eyes off of Mido. Mido shakes his head and struggles to roll onto his side. "You saved my ass once, so I'm already on borrowed time."

"Have you seen anyone else?" Link asks him.

Mido shakes his head and finally gives up his struggle to move onto his side. "Take it, will ya?" he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your best bet is to get to the caravan, if they haven't reached it yet."

"Want us to stay?"

"No. No point." Mido pats his chest and then pulls out a set of keys from his vest. The keys tumble through his fingers and onto the ground.

It's almost a full minute before Link responds. "Goodbye Mido."

"Later Link."

Link swipes up the bucket, the keys and Mido's cap, and nods for me to follow in the opposite direction of the task force went. I hurry up onto my feet and stumble after him. Link hands me Mido's cap, nimbly dodging fallen debris and shoves the keys into his pants pocket. I give Mido one last fleeting glance behind me. He rolls fully back onto his back, but moves no more. My foot strikes a tent stake, and cursing, I turn my attention back to following Link, who has momentarily stopped to allow me to catch up.

I'm totally lost among the wild flames. I would have no chance if Link wasn't here. With Mido's cap pressed to my nose and mouth, the musty scent of the tweed fills my lungs as Link and I twist and turn through the maze of the carnival. Several times, we find ourselves having to backtrack in order to avoid being trapped by the flames. Feeling dizzy again from the smoke, I reach out a hand and latch onto the cross of Link's suspenders. He stumbles a bit by the sudden restraint and then begins to move more slowly through the maze.

Link stops in his tracks, and I stumble right into him. He pulls me along and shouts out, "Marin!" As Link pulls to a stop again, I come around his side and clutch his suspenders again. Marin lies on the ground curled up by the wheel of a wagon that has yet succumbed to the fire. Link moves forward a bit, calling her name, and I stumble with him. Marin lifts her head up. The cream colored dress she wears has been dirtied so much by the dirt it looks to be an ugly brown-grey. Apart from her soiled dress and a few minor cuts and bruises, Marin looks relatively fine.

Marin's head flops back to the ground. "Just leave me," she mumbles, closing her eyes. Her arms wind themselves around her face.

"Marin! Get up!" Link commands her. I let go of his suspenders, coughing deep and low, when he stoops to pull Marin to her feet. A stinging burn laces up my chest. "We have to go, come on!"

"Leave me alone!" she screeches, wrenching her arm out from Link's hand. The water sloshes a little out of the bucket. She stumbles back into the wagon, her legs buckling under her.

Link, however, picks her back up, despite her screaming protests. "Marin, if you don't shut it, so help me Farore, I will knock you out where you stand." When Marin only continues to fight Link, he swoops her up and throws her over one shoulder with his free arm, kicking and screaming. Link turns to me. "Zelda, come on."

"Marin," I call, pulling Mido's cap from my face, and she shoots a glare at me. "Have you seen anybody?"

Her nostrils flare with her labored breathing, but she answers. "I saw Ilia running towards where the animals were kept and Darunia took after her," she spits.

I pick up my pace to match Link's and grab hold of his suspenders, putting the cap back to my face. He shakes his head. "There's no way you two would make it over there," he says. "How long ago was it?" he asks Marin.

"I don't know!" comes the screech.

"Then we have to hope they got out of there," he says grimly.

With a few more twists and turns, we emerge at the edge of the carnival where a caravan of vehicles sits mostly untouched. A few of the vehicles have obviously been taken, most likely from escaping carnies. But as we near the caravan, Link sets Marin down on her own feet and swears. Marin and I catch our breath on the fresh air. I flop the cap onto the crown of my head.

"What?" Marin asks, heaving a little.

"They slashed the tires."

"What!" Marin's head flies back over to the caravan and she moves towards the cars before letting out a bellow of curses herself. "They're all flat!"

"We're going back into the fire. The truck by the gaming tents should still be there," Link says. He looks down at the bucket, and then throws the water on both of us. Marin yelps and hollers at him as Link throws the bucket off into the distance. "Shut it, Marin, we have to keep moving."

I move to follow as Link and Marin take off, but something moves out of the corner of my eye. I catch sight of it. The black, leathery wings pound away, and I scurry to catch up, and tug on Link's sleeve. "The takkuri!" I exclaim, pointing behind us.

"Godsdammit," Link spits, watching as the takkuri takes off above us over the carnival. "They'll be coming now for sure." We pick up the pace as we make our way back into the blazing mess, Marin and I stumbling along in a haze.

"Link!" Marin wheezes, clutching a stitch in her side. "Where are we even going?"

"Everywhere!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I cough, "We have to keep moving so the takkuri doesn't see us."

"What's a damn takkuri have to do with this?"

Link shoots Marin a glare over his shoulder. "The takkuri has been spying on the carnival for the president's task force," Link says.

"And you know this how?" she exclaims, coming to a stop and clutching her chest.

"Link," I say, reeling under the smoke and heat, "Marin and I can't stay here much longer." My eyes itch like mad and tear up from the smoke.

Link opens his mouth to respond, but then clamps it shut and rushes at Marin and me. He flings us both onto a shoulder and pushes through the flames. Mido's cap slips from my head, and my hands flail to catch it before it's lost. With the cap safely in my grasp, I look up and see the takkuri flying after us. "Link!" I yell, watching as the massive bird swoops down low. Shouts from the task force buzz over the fire's roars.

"I know!" he grunts, jostling Marin and me as he leaps over debris. My hands claw at the back of Link's shirt as I push myself up. There's a break in the flames up ahead of us leading out to open field that has yet to catch fire. Desperate cries sound out. Marin and I look at each other briefly before our eyes scan to see where they're coming from. "I'll go back," Link assures us.

"What about the takkuri?" I ask.

Link snaps, "I'll take care of that too." Link runs us out onto the open field and sets us down on the grass. "Try to get as far as you can, and don't look back. I'll try and come back with the truck if I can." He turns back and hurries off only to skid to a stop when the takkuri sinks down low, squawking at us.

Link makes a swipe for it, but the takkuri evades him and circles us in the field. It squawks again, calling out for the task force. The takkuri dives down a little farther, snapping its beak. Marin squeals, covering her head and flopping down into the grass as it makes a swipe at her. It soars upwards, squawking again and circling us.

Thinking quickly, I scramble to my feet. "Link!" I screech, my lungs burning. I pull my wallet from my dress pocket and toss it to him. "Open it and throw it as far as you can!"

He fumbles for a second to open it and then flings it through the air. The takkuri squawks in delight as all of my money flies through the air. The bills fly off in the light breeze, but it's the coins that capture the monstrous bird's attention. They glitter and shine under the moonlight and the light of the blazing fire as they soar through the air and disappear off into the distance, and the takkuri takes off after them.

Link, Marin and I take a moment to look at each other in disbelief. Another round of shrieks pierce the night, and Link bolts off in a flash back into the blaze. My feet feel like lead, but I force them to move, one in front of the other, and I give chase after Link, shoving Mido's gap onto my head. Marin shouts out behind me, "He said to move away, you idiot!" I spare one glance over my shoulder and see Marin standing disbelieving out in the field before she shakes her head and turns tail from the blaze that's engulfing the carnival.

I cough, and it rattles my ribs and my spine. It flares up in my lungs and burns my throat. I rub my eyes, trying to keep the itching at bay.

I see Link not far ahead, and he looks up. "It's Fanadi!"

The large fortune teller is trying to worm and wiggle her way out of a destroyed wagon. Angry, bubbling flesh decorates her bare arms as she scrabbles to get out of the wreckage. Link picks up and easily tosses aside a fallen beam, and I take hold of Fanadi's hands and pull. My heels dig into the dry earth, and Fanadi lets go of one hand to help push herself out of the tight space she's wedged in on the side of the demolished wagon. Link pushes me aside, and with one tug, he frees Fanadi, but the sudden disturbance causes what's left of the roof to slide forward. Fanadi scrambles to get out of the way as I back up, but she only succeeds in briefly pinning Link down by his arm. She rolls away in time to avoid the roof. Link, however, has no such luck, and I hurry to pry him out from under the debris.

"I think it's broken," he says as Fanadi and I get him out. We help get him to his feet, and I'm about to ask him what he means when I hear the stampeding feet. Link hears it too, mutters a swear and says, "Forget the truck, we have to run."

Link and I immediately take off, but with one look behind us, I see Fanadi struggling to match our pace with her large size and lack of fitness. "Fanadi, hurry!" I call back. She stops and looks back behind her where the sound of the stampeding feet grows louder. She shakes her head, and then she waves me off. One man from the task force appears around a flaming tent. He shouts a warning for the others, waving one hand. In the other hand, he brandishes a purple magnifying glass-like object with an eye in the center. "Fanadi!" I holler, but she only waves me off again as the uniformed man makes his way closer.

"Zelda, just go!" Link calls back, and with one last look at Fanadi, I take off into the field. Link waits for me off in the distance of the field, and then he waits patiently for me to catch my breath. My whole chest might just as well be consumed by the flames. "You can do it, love," Link says. I nod, and we sprint off, the growing roars of our pursuers behind us. I feel Mido's cap lifting off my head as we take off, and clamp a hand to keep it on. Link lets out an airy laugh and snatches the cap from me and puts the wet thing on his own head.

I stumble as the ground slopes downwards, tripping over my feet and the uneven ground until I end up sprawled out on the ground. Link doggedly makes his way past, an arm flailing. "Princess! You better get a move on, love!" he teases, his voice harsh but quiet. I get back on my feet and chase after him, our feet pounding like drums in my ears. When I stumble again, I hop on one foot and dispose of my shoe and remove the other, tossing it over my shoulder and flying down the hill after Link. I wince, feeling stray rocks striking the bottoms of my feet, but a childhood of cobblestones and concrete has left them tougher than another's.

The field rises up, and we both scramble to scale the new incline. My hands claw at the dirt as we make our escape from the looming sounds of the task force behind us, and I ignore the fire raging in my breast. We reach the crest of the hill, and pause for me to catch my breath. I collapse in the grass, the world twirling in around me. Link stands tall, a beacon in the sea of grass all around us.

"The ranch is in this direction, isn't it?" he asks.

"We can't bother Malon," I wheeze, coughing a little. "Not with this."

"We have to stop somewhere for you," he says.

I tell him, "You could just leave me; you've done it plenty of times today."

"Don't be stupid," he chastises, bending down. He balances himself on the balls of his feet and scans the horizon. "I told you I won't leave you behind again." Again? What's he mean "again"? The world spins a little more around me. "Come on, love, we have to keep moving."

"Your stupid pet names," I mumble, closing my eyes. My eyes may be closed, but I can still feel the earth underneath me spinning and turning away. "What were you talking about before?" I breathe. "You said you thought something was broken?"

"My arm," he says. "The one the deku babba bit. It's not working."

I roll over onto all fours and push myself back up. The embers of the steady burn in my chest are still white hot, but time is of the essence. "Let's get moving."

"You sure?"

"We have to."

Link and I sprint off further into the grassy fields, the burning blaze a mere slit of light on the horizon of the hills now, but we can still hear the shouts drifting through the fields and the whistle calls of the task force. The looming noise spurs us to keep pushing forward.

I don't know how long we've been running, but every piece of me feels like it's about to fall apart. If there's one thing this whole mess has given me, it's fear, and my very own fear is the only motivation that I have to keep moving, keep running. I'm wheezing, I'm gasping - I am just plain out of breath. My pace has slowed considerably, but Link easily slows down so I don't fall behind. When I look behind us, I can still see the glow of the fire gone amok.

I shake my head and try to focus on what's ahead of us, when Link suddenly cries out, "Zel-!" I scrabble to a stop and look behind me and see Link pitch forward. He lands roughly face down on the ground, sliding a forward a bit on the slope.

I hurry up the hill to him and shake his shoulder, screaming his name, but he doesn't respond to me. Oh goddesses! I push him over onto his back. I pat his face some, but then remember the gesture is useless on the machine. The machine! He's a machine! My hands immediately fly to my pockets, and it's then do I realize the full impact of what I've done. I'd had Link throw everything I had off into the fields to put the takkuri off of our tracks. "_Dammit_!" I screech in frustration.

I'm in the middle of Hyrule's biggest portion of uninhabited grassland, with a carnival burning down in the distance, friends and acquaintances have either gone missing or are dead, a squad following me in pursuit, not a single rupee to my name and my only remaining companion is a machine that has just turned off. I slam my face into Link's shoulder to muffle my screams.

I am royally screwed.

**…**

With only a few breaks for rest, I actually make it to Lon Lon Ranch just before the next nightfall with no further run-ins with authorities, the most luck I've had in days. My feet ache, my back hurts, my tongue feels like sandpaper, my stomach has long since given up its protests for food and I just want a soft bed to lie down on. While Link is much lighter than I expected, his massive size and dead weight on my back wears me down as I reach the gates of the ranch. The world around me is cast in a warm orange glow from the setting sun as I trudge through the gates and head towards the stables. With little grace or care (sorry, Link), I throw Link off of my back and pull him off to the side, setting him upright against the stables.

I throw open the stable door, and call out for Malon. Her fiery head pops up from a horse's stall, and I stumble over to her. "Zelda! What happened?" she cries, dropping the hoof she was cleaning of dirt.

"I need two things from you."

She blinks, but nods and says, "Okay…?"

"I need you to take me out to Lake Hylia, and I need to steal a pair of shoes."

She frowns. "I can do that, but tell me what happened?"

"Malon, I really don't want to go through the burning death trap I just escaped all over again," I groan. "Please."

Malon walks out of the stall, and secures the gate. The horse inside whinnies to her, and she gives its nose a quick rub. "Sorry, but I gotta go," she coos to the animal. The horse pulls back, bobbing its head.

We walk out of the stables together, and she asks me, "Do you need to leave now?"

"Yes, if we can!"

Hearing the urgency in my voice, she tells me, "Alright, alright. Calm down now. Let's get you some shoes to wear first." She leads the way into the house, and I glance back to check on Link.

"Malon, you wouldn't happen to have a coin would you?"

She shakes her head. "I'm afraid not, sorry. Dad just had everything put away yesterday too." Great. Luck has most certainly been on my side these last few days, that's for sure.

I follow her into her room where she outfits me with a pair of socks and her extra pair of work boots after we clean and bandage my sore feet. She giggles, and I frown at her. "Sorry," she says, laughter still lacing her words, "but you just look a little weird wearing those boots with your dress." I finger my dress, feeling the dirty fabric. "Why don't you a shirt of mine and some overalls too? Your clothes are all filthy. I can wash them and keep them for you until next time." If there is a next time. Oh, Malon, I hope there is.

"Sure," I grumble, taking the proffered clothing. She leaves, telling me she'd get me a wash bin to clean myself up in, and she returns a few minutes later with the water. "I could heat up some hot water up for you," she offers.

I shake my head. "I don't want to waste time," I tell her.

"I'm going to finish up my duties in the stable, and then we can go. I just have to tell my father before we head out what I'm doing."

"Thank you, Malon."

"Just… You have to tell me all about your crazy adventure when you're no longer in trouble, okay?"

I bark a laugh. "Sure, Malon. I can do that." She leaves me to wash up and change. It doesn't take me long, and before I hurry out of the house in the borrowed overalls, I down a few glasses of water in the kitchen. As I jog down the steps of the porch, I feel the legs of the overalls catch on each other. They're a bit baggy on my small frame, Malon being a much bigger girl with years of muscle being built up from the labor.

When I enter the stables again, the first thing out of her mouth is "What happened to your friend? Is he alright?"

"He's fine, but he'll be better once I get him down to Lake Hylia," I say. "Malon, will you have enough gas? I don't have any money left, I lost it all."

"It'll be fine. I can just take a few extra cans of gasoline with us and put it on the back of the truck," she says, walking back out of the stables. "I'll get the truck ready."

"Okay," I say. "I'll be there in a minute." I kick Link's legs open and suck in a breath to prepare myself, and then I stoop down with my back to Link's chest. I throw his arms over my shoulders and hook my arms under his knees. Piggy-backing him, I head slowly over to the garage, where I hear the truck spur to life.

It's a tight fit, but the three of us make it in the truck with Malon driving, Link squashed between us, leaning on me, and me up against the window for some sleep.

**…**

"Hey, Zelda." Malon's voice is gentle in my ears. "We're coming up to the lake." I stir and open my eyes. "Where exactly do you need me to take you?"

"There's a researcher here by the name of Mizuumi," I say. "I'm not sure where he's at exactly though."

"We can stop and ask somewhere," she says, yawning.

I look out the window. It's completely pitch black outside. "How long was I asleep?" I ask.

"Long time," Malon says. "A couple of hours at least."

I rub my eyes. "Who's going to be out at this time of night to ask?" I didn't think about any of this, and Malon, knowing this too, gives me a pointed look.

We're in luck, and I send Nayru a little thanks, and find a small rest stop on the edge of town, Peoria, that sits along the banks of the lake. Malon pulls up at the building, and tells me to wait. "I'll be fine. Be right back," she promises. I crane my neck though to watch her as she walks into the building and to see in through the windows. She speaks with the man on duty inside for a couple of minutes, and he scribbles on some paper before handing it to her.

"See? Easy," she says, wagging the paper at me. "Got some directions."

The town is small, miniscule in comparison to the sprawling and winding streets of Castleton. Malon drives slowly through the dark town that's barely lit at night, but it still doesn't take long to reach the other side of town where on a cliff overlooking the lake sits an odd building. Malon frowns as we pull up. "This is it?" she says.

I shrug. "I hope so."

We exchange a glance before both of us get out of the truck, leaving Link lying on the bench seat inside. We both hesitate at the door, before Malon pushes the doorbell. The buzz sounds inside and sudden shouts ring out. Feet stomp, growing louder as they approach the front door. Malon and I both jump a little, when a very eccentric middle aged man opens the door. He peers out us with a magnifying glass to one eye. Grey hair pokes out wildly from under the blue cap and the pair of goggles on his head. "What's the meaning of this late hour?" he demands.

Malon and I glance at each other quickly once more before I respond, "Um, are you Professor Mizuumi?"

"What's it to ya?" he asks, launching himself forward at me. The eye behind the magnifying glass whizzes around as he looks me over. "What're you doing wearing pants? Shouldn't you two girls be wearing proper dresses?"

"Look, my friend Link really needs your help," I tell him.

He starts at this. The magnifying glass drops from his eye. "Link, you say?" he asks, his tone much lighter this time.

"Yes," I say. "He's in the truck. There's something wrong with his arm, and I can't wake him up."

"That's an easy fix you-"

"I don't have any," I inform him.

He scratches his chin, mumbling to himself as he thinks this over. "Alright, lass, I'll help you out. Bring him in."

Malon and I breathe sighs of relief and go to pull Link out of the truck. Malon helps me with him inside before bidding us goodbye. I walk her out of the house and to the truck. "I really owe for this one, Malon," I tell her. "Thanks."

"I'm just slowly racking up the favors now, aren't I?" she says devilishly. "I'll have to call you in for some fantastic vacation one day. Maybe a cruise or something," she muses.

I laugh. "Anything for you, Malon," I say, shutting her door. She waves and pulls out and heads back into the little town.

I head back into the professor's house, and find myself not in any usual or normal home. The walls are lined with jarred specimens, maps and chalkboards covered in calculations. There's a little kitchenette to one corner by the door, and a winding staircase opposite, but the room is mostly devoted to whatever this madman is working on. The professor has Link on a table off to the side, and he digs around in some drawers. He spares me one glance before turning back to the drawer.

"So," he says, "got no coins, eh?"

"No, I kind of lost all of my money. I had Link throw my whole wallet to distract a takkuri."

The professor pauses at this, and looks back at me, then back to the drawer. "And what's a takkuri doing out and going after a little lass?"

"Link was convinced the takkuri was spying on the carnival he was travelling with for that task force."

"Oh yes," Mizuumi says dazedly. "Those squads came through here a couple of weeks ago. Relentless." The contents of the drawer rattle a little more before Mizuumi shuts it with a triumphant "Ah-ha!" The strange man shuffles over to where I stand by Link on the table, a pouch in his hand. He fumbles a little with the small buttons on Link's shirt before I step in and help him. Opening the small pouch in his hand, he plucks a coin out and slips it into the slot on Link's chest.

The gears whirr away inside of Link, and his eyes snap open. He jumps at the new surroundings, and his head swivels around taking it in. "Link, I got you to Lake Hylia," I say.

He looks at me, and then he notices Mizuumi shuffling away. I help him sit up, and Link swings his legs over the table. "How long has it been?"

"About a day or so," I tell him. "I don't even really know. Everything seems to have meshed together," I chuckle. "Malon was the one that got us here though."

"Where is she?"

"She just left to head back to the ranch not long ago."

Mizuumi reappears at my side, and pushes me away, a tool box in his hand. I step aside, and Mizuumi asks Link, "Alright, which one is it this time?"

Sheepishness spreads across Link's face and he taps his left arm. "I got bit by a deku babba first, then crushed by a fat lady and a falling wagon roof."

"Sounds like quite the adventure," Mizuumi comments, pushing Link's fallen, ratted sleeve up to look at the arm. "I see where the deku babba bit you. Nothing than some new silicone can't fix." He throws the tool box onto the table next to Link and opens it. Producing a pair of scissors, the professor digs on tip into a hole in Link's rubberish skin and cuts his arm open. The scissors clatter in the toolbox when the professor tosses them aside. He hums softly to himself as he rips the skin on Link's arm open and then peels it off from the elbow down.

"Step back," the professor says, sliding the goggles on his head down. A small circular saw in the professor's hand whizzes to life, and sparks start to fly as he cuts into the dented metal chassis of Link's arm. He pauses in the cutting after a while to break open Link's arm. He examines Link's arm for a moment and then says, "You're lucky that deku babba only busted the metal, but I see someone else finished the job. Your arm was working after the babba bite?"

"Yeah," Link grunts.

The professor opens up Link's hand as well and then puts away the saw.

The metal skeleton of Link's arm is now completely exposed, and when the professor moves to go digging through his toolbox again, I lean over to examine it. "_This_ is what you look like on the inside?" I ask, surprised, and Link's soft laughter drifts into my ear. It's no wonder Link has such a lithe frame. Up towards his elbow, I can see the large cogs that act as a joint, and down his forearm is a long metal tube to make up the bulk of it. Many smaller wires twist down to his wrist and through his palm to his fingers. A series of thin cylinders line the main tube, but they cover smaller rods.

"Those are the hydraulics," Link tells me

I shake my head. "I don't understand any of your machine mumbo-jumbo."

This sets Link off in laughter, and Professor Mizuumi swats at his head. "Quit it, will you? Or do you not want me to fix your arm?"

"Fine, fine," Link concedes.

"Is there some place I can lay down?" I ask the professor. "I haven't really slept."

"Take the sofa upstairs," Mizuumi tells me. "There's a blanket in the closet up there too."

I glance at Link, and when he only shrugs, I turn and head up the circular staircase by the door. When I emerge on the second floor, I see the full extent the professor has set aside for his living quarters. More chalkboards litter about the room. By the half wall concealing the stairs is a small sitting area with a radio, a couple of chairs and a sofa. In the far corner are the professor's untouched bed and dresser and a small bathroom in the opposite corner. Right in front of the stairs is the small linen closet the professor mention, and I open it to see a rack of coats and shoes. Above on the small shelf are some blankets, and I pull one down. I shut the door, the professor's grumbling and Link's snickering floating up the stairway.

Exhausted, I throw myself down onto the sofa and snuggle under the blanket, dreaming about the pending fates of the carnies. I can only hope that Darunia and Ilia made it out okay, and that Marin, where ever she wandered off to, is doing alright as well. Most of all though, I wonder of Fanadi's fate, and I shiver at the thought.

**…**

I'm shaken awake, and Link's face beams down on me. "Hey, sleepyhead. Let's go for a walk for a while, maybe get you some food. The professor wants to get some shut eye, so he wants us out for a while." I throw the blanket of off me and sit up. I pause momentarily, feeling the world spin around me and then follow Link outside the house, stumbling and shaking as I go.

"What time is it?" I ask, looking out on the lake. I stuff my hands under my arms to keep them from shaking. The sky is a light grey, stretching over the trees and lake.

"Early morning," Link says. "The sun rose not long ago."

"And your arm?" I ask. "Did the professor get everything fixed?"

"Almost," he chuckles, and lifts up his arm. The arm is all patched with a new chassis, but no skin covering. "Now I can tell everybody I lost my real arm in the war," he says with a sloppy grin on his face.

"Can we go down to the bank for a bit first?" I ask.

"Sure!" Link chirps, and leads the way down a beaten dirt path. The path winds around Professor Mizuumi's house on the cliff and into a patch of trees. "I threw all your money into the field, though, right?" he asks me over his shoulder as he leads me through the thicket of woods along the lake.

"You did," I groan, remember the events surrounding the takkuri. "I really wasn't thinking; it was everything I had."

"It's alright," Link assures me. "We'll just have to make some money of our own. If you hadn't thought for me to throw those coins though, right now we probably would be somewhere where we don't want to be." He stops suddenly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm a little dizzy," I admit, stopping as well. "Or something."

"Maybe you should eat first."

"I want answers." Link smiles at me, and I watch as it twists. Maybe I should reconsider. "No money, remember?"

"When I said we'd have to make our own money, I didn't mention that Mizuumi loaned me some. He's a peculiar guy," Link tells me, walking back up the slight incline to me, "so if he asks for you to pay him back by trying some of his concoctions, don't do it. We'll send him some cash when we make some. Somehow.

"Let's just go into town. There ought to be some place open by now."

I shake my head, airy emptiness filling my brain, and I plop myself down on a rock along the path. Drawing my legs up, I lean my head down on my knees, and the dizziness and lightheadedness is alleviated for the time being.

Link sighs and kicks at the dirt. "What is it you want to know so bad?"

"Where'd you go after you took the coin from me?"

He scratches at his head and studies me. "I followed the takkuri for a while, and I almost ran straight into the squads." His hand drops to his side, and he fiddles with the waistband of his slacks. "So I had to hang back for a while."

"You saw those weird magnifying glasses they had, right?"

"I did," he says simply. "That's why I really have to avoid them."

"So what are they?" I demand, looking back up.

Link's glass eyes slide around for a brief moment before he answers. "It's called a Lens of Truth. It's a magically altered item that allows the person using it to see through magical tricks. It was originally used by Sheikah warriors, and it dates back to at least the Unification War.

"Remember how Ruto was talking about them running a magnifying glass type object over them? They're using those Lenses to easily pick out magical objects to confiscate. I'm not sure what the effects are on people with magical cores."

"So you don't know if they went after Fanadi for her magic?"

"No," he says with a shake of his head. Then he clarifies, stooping to pick up a small rock, "I don't know if you're able to see somebody's magic through a Lens."

"It's been around for at least say… a millennia," I say, putting my head back down on my knees, "and you don't know?"

Link laughs harshly at this, and I peek up at him. "I'm old, but not that old," he reminds me, turning away. "The Unification War was centuries before I was born." He throws the rock further into the patch of woods.

"That makes you how old then?"

He spins around give me an incredulous look. "Excuse me?" he sputters. "Lady, never have I asked _your _age."

"Because you obviously know better than to ask a woman's age."

"Because you're all forever twenty-nine anyway."

"I'm not that old!" I holler, and Link howls with laughter.

Still cackling with laughter, Link tells me, "I was born about two hundred years after the Shadow Era. I actually don't even really remember."

"How'd you end up without a body?"

Link sits down next to me on the rock. "Well, here's the rundown: I was born during one of Hyrule's golden ages. The country was making money, the people were happy, our foreign affairs were all in good hands and the military was strong and proud.

"I'd joined the ranks as a page, of course, and when I'd finally reached knighthood was when things started to go awry. My particular squad was stationed down in Ordona Province."

I ask him, "Are you still dreaming during your off times?"

He nods.

"Ordon?"

"Not the town. When I was there it was a growing village, not the little hubbub it is today. Most of my duties had me stationed in the outer woods surrounding the village. It's my memories of the woods as they were that I've been dreaming about most of all."

"Then maybe you should consider going back to Ordona Province."

"Maybe," he muses, and then falls silent.

I wait a bit, before prompting him back to my original question. "Well, while I was stationed there, I was in possession of a very powerful artifact, a sword thought to be blessed by the Golden Goddesses themselves. It was effective against the queer unrest that was beginning to worm its way into Hyrule. I had the misfortune of encountering the source. It was a mage by the name of Malladus, who was in search of a new vessel.

"He'd sold his soul to darkness for immortality, but found that he'd bene given the short end of the deal. See, he's just like me in a sense. I don't know what his true form is, but he's forced to take new hosts to avoid revealing it. My understanding is that when he takes control of a new host, the spirit he pushes out is effectively destroyed in the process."

"Then why did you survive?"

"I can't really tell you the whole story about that, because in part, I don't have a full understanding of it myself. But I used to have the ability to use magic, and that's essentially why I was able to escape, albeit in a much weakened state. When Malladus saw that I could exist without a vessel of my own, he trapped me in my first host, a rag doll. It took me a while to figure out how to get out of that mess.

"Then I spent some time stuck as a scarecrow."

I snort with laughter, burying my head in my knees.

We sit in a companionable silence for a while, both of us thinking about our separate issues. The trees rustle above us in the wind, and the early morning birds sing and caw out. I take the time to look inwards and see that my magical core is back to normal. There are no strange golden vines guarding me, and the black wings stemming from the gold magic have once again receded.

"Hey, Link. What exactly is this gold magic?"

"Hm?"

"You know something about it."

"You think this why?"

"You knew what to do to get it under control."

"It's no different from other wild magic."

"But it's not. This is something different. Something special. During the fire, when I looked inside, I saw these vines covering my core to protect me. And it sets of warnings to me when danger is near or something is amiss." I sniff and chew my bottom lip. "It's how I knew somebody had been into my flat."

"I see." Link shoots up from the rock. "Come on, let's get you some food," he says. "Piggyback?"

"Link."

He flashes me a grin. "You dragged me about twenty-five miles to the ranch. I can carry you to town for some breakfast, then we can go down to the lake."

I frown at him.

"You know, some days, I really wish I could try flapjacks…" he rambles, pulling me up from the rock and onto his back. "What does syrup taste like anyway?"

* * *

><p>I don't know if you guys have every forgotten to eat for a day or two, but I have. My sister calls me sometimes to remind me. Don't ask me how, but I do; I get so caught up working on my writing and doing my other work, I guess. It's like being drunk with a lot of shaking almost, and I don't realize it until I get up and it hits. Oh gosh, I sound anorexic or something. I SWEAR I'M NOT!<p>

I have been waiting since I thought up the concept for this story to burn the carnival down. Once I got here though, holy crap. There's a lot more going on than I ever thought would be. I didn't even get everything I wanted in here; I'm not totally satisfied. I may go back, because I see some faults. I don't know. I'll see how it rolls. What're your thoughts? I'm fairly tied on this one.

Auuuugh. I'll see you all in Zombie Cake next if you're following that! I really owe that an update. Hurk! And I want to thank all of you who have added this to your favorites and put it on alert; I'm really surprised at the numbers for it! And thanks to you guys who've been PMing me!

:x


	6. He Doesn't Build Ships

Coin-Operated

6.0

He Doesn't Build Ships, He Has No Use for Sails

"It's uh… fluffy? Kind of buttery, I guess," I say, taking another bite off of my plate. "Mushy."

Link leans back in his chair as he cranes his head to look at the clouds outside. "And?" he prompts. I glance over behind the counter and see the waitress giving us a sour look.

I shrug. "Sugary. It's really sweet."

The mechanical man pops his chair back into its place, his hair flopping under Mido's tweed cap. He frowns at me. "You're pretty terrible at this," he says with a quirk in his brow.

"I'm no poet or writer," I snap, jabbing my fork at him. Syrup slowly drips off of the fork. Link leers back. "Get off my back. It's not my fault you don't have a sense of taste."

"You really can't describe a flapjack and some maple syrup to me?"

"Asks the man who has never tasted chocolate."

"So? We didn't even _have_ that back in my day."

Stabbing another section of the pancake on my plate, I say, "My point exactly."

"I don't follow."

"It's hard for me to describe the way something tastes to somebody whose tastes are so archaic compared to mine," I tell him. "Face it, Link, you're an anachronism."

"Since when do you use such big words?"

"Since when have you picked up a dictionary?"

Link groans and goes back to leaning on the back legs of his chair. "I don't think I like your smarts so much anymore," the mechanical man pouts.

I snicker to myself and push a bit of the pancake around in the syrup. "You just don't want to admit you don't know what 'anachronism' means." If his face could flush, I'm sure Link would be as red as a tomato by now. With this thought in mind, I try my hardest to keep my laughter inside. Link stiffens up, his brow furrows, and his mouth thins as he takes me in, pushing my flapjack around in syrup. "Got something to say, sir?"

His newly fixed hand slams down on the table, rattling my glass and silverware. The salt shaker falls over. With his other hand, Link points at me. "Don't take me for some country bumpkin just because I told you I stayed in Ordon for a good chunk of time."

Grabbing the cup of syrup, I pour a little more onto the plate. "I would expect someone who's been around as long as you to have some sort of head on his shoulders. I'm afraid I'm sadly disappointed," I say and take another bite. "Books aren't that hard to buy now, you know."

"You know," he starts, "Mizuumi gave _me_ the money." Link leans back in the chair, pulling away from the table. "I could leave you here unable to pay the bill, lady," he threatens.

"Ah, but you need me," I point out.

He frowns. "For what?"

"To keep you operating for one," I say. "And two… well, I'm not sure what number two is." I quirk an eyebrow at him. "Because, why would you take it upon yourself to keep an eye on me and then, out of everyone in that forsaken carnival, would you do your best to keep me alive _and _out of trouble?"

"I don't need you for anything," he says stubbornly, and he crosses his arms and looks away. I snort to myself.

I tell him, "I'd like to point out that it was _me_ who got you here in the first place. I could have left your ass in the field." I take a sip of my water and slam the glass down. "So quite clearly you _do_ need me, and you're only arguing me because you don't want to admit you don't know as much as you think you do."

He gives me a hard look over. "So here's what we're going to do," I say, ignoring his glare, "first, you're going to pay for my food, and then you're going to tell me what I want to know. You've been keeping me in the dark and tip-toeing around me long enough."

"Since when did you get so gutsy?"

"Since I realized just how delicate you are. You build yourself up to be much more than human, but deep down, you're still there in ego, heart and mind.

"The flapjacks are fantastic, by the way."

Link ignores me for the rest of breakfast, and I revel in the silence and my small victory.

…

Later on, Link takes me down to the bank of the water like I originally asked. In the distance there are row boats bobbing in the water at residents' private docks. The water is exceptionally clear today, and its blue waves lap at the banks and the small island in the center where trees and plant life have sprawled and thrived with life. Link lags behind me as I take off down a dock off of the beaten path Link and I took from the professor's house. The borrowed boots thump and drum on the wood, a new sound to my ears from the click and clack of my heels. I skitter to a stop at the end of the dock and peer into the water. Bits of plants wave in the water, and a fish I'd scared scurries off.

Muted tups on the wood sound behind me as I take a seat on the edge of the dock. I pull Malon's boots off and roll the legs of the overalls up to my calves. I kick my bare feet and ankles, enjoying the soft breeze off of the water and the strange juxtaposition of recent events. The newfound calmness of the lake is a much needed change from the stress of Castleton and the calamity of the carnival. Leaning back on my hands I look up. "Take a seat," I say to Link. He doesn't move, standing stock still on the dock, his hands in his trouser pockets. I follow his eyes and harsh expression to the island out in the middle of the lake.

Finally, Link moves and sits down on the dock next to me, letting his feet dangle like mine. I sneak a glance over at him, but he catches me. He sighs and leans back with me. "What is it that you want from me?"

"Can we start with how you got to the carnival?"

The thin line of his mouth twitches and pulls a little more. It takes him a bit, but Link finally responds. "That kind of goes hand in hand with how I met Mido," he says. "And am I right in assuming that you want to know that too?" I nod. He sighs again, and pulls Mido's green cap from his head. With one hand, he rubs the back of his neck and the other fingers the tweed material of the hat in his hand. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead comes a short bark of a laugh. "I can't even feel," he comments.

A part of me wants to respond, do something to comfort him, but another part tells me to back off. I slide my eyes inside, and, to my surprise, I see that the green vines are back. They hold my core in place and wrap protectively around the top and bottom of the sphere. The in between area swirls with the different colors of my magic, and I take note of it and pull my eyes back to the lake and its crystal blue waters.

"I saved his life once," Link says.

"Is that why he mentioned being on borrowed time?"

"Yeah." Link pulls his gaze away from the cap in his hands and back out to the island. "He lost a poker game about…" He sighs, trying to rack his memories. "I want to say it was about ten or fifteen years ago, but…" He trails off again, and then shrugs.

"Time doesn't really move for you," I offer.

He nods. "Exactly." A seagull caws. "Mizuumi had actually just finished making this body for me. He was excited to do it, and did it as a favor for me since I was a willing participant in all his loony experiments.

"I ran into Mido at pub down in Faron Province. I walked into the pub right as the fight was breaking out. Mido lost in a card game, and he was accusing the winner of the hand of cheating. The guy Mido was accusing pulled out a gat and threatened to shoot Mido. And you know how Mido is… or was.

"He challenged the guy to shoot him, thinking the guy was bluffing, and I stepped in just as the gun went off. I pushed Mido back and took the bullet, and of course it went right through me. The guy that shot it off got scared when somebody threatened to get the cops involved, and he took off."

Link closes his eyes, letting his hair ruffle in the breeze. "He actually thanked me that night," Link chuckles, letting himself fall back completely onto the dock. Mido's cap rests on his stomach. "I found out later on that he was managing a carnival. Since I didn't have a job, and being what I am, I could never keep one for long without people getting suspicious and wondering about me, I told him what I really was and asked if he could give me a place there."

"Not everyone that I met was travelling with you guys at that point, though, right?"

"No," he says softly. "Ilia was though."

"Really?"

"Her father was the original caretaker for all the animals. He had a heart attack a couple years after I joined, and then Ilia took over his duties. She was real little when I joined, not even a teenager yet."

"What about the rest of them?"

"We picked up Darunia in Kakariko. He worked in developing new explosives during the war. It was good timing too, since the war had just ended and he didn't really have any idea what he was going to do after." Link sits back up, taking the cap back into his hands. "Doing all of that factory work during the war years is what got him all that muscle."

I chuckle a little. "I'm sure. Sounds like hard work.

"I don't think Marin is as fond of me as Darunia though."

"She's bitter."

"I know," I say. "Where is she from? Her accent is a little weird."

"She's from Koholint Island, actually." I start to kick my legs again. Link tells me, "I was the one who roped her in with the carnival." The guilt in his voice is clear, and seeing no obvious reason as to why, I ask Link. "She traveled from Koholint through the Great Sea Republic just to end up in Hyrule. She just wanted to know what was beyond the ocean and to see it with her own eyes.

"I unknowingly convinced her of all the places she could see with all the traveling the carnival does. And she joined our ranks."

"She just wanted to travel?"

"She wanted to be heard more than anything," he says. "She's an amazing singer, and you know with how small Koholint is and the fact that it refused to join the Republic, she wanted to go elsewhere."

"It sounds like you and her were close at one point," I comment.

"We were," he agrees. "But it just got too much for her. It wasn't what she really wanted out of life, wasn't where she wanted to be. When I first met her, she told me how she used to pray to the Wind fish of Koholint to allow her to fly away like a seagull to see lands beyond the ocean.

"You know that island out there," Link says, pointing at the island in the middle of the lake, "used to be pretty bare. Somewhere in all of those trees is an entrance into a cave where a spring is. It's said to be a sacred spot and houses guardian spirits."

"Do you think we might be able to go see it?"

He shrugs. "The entrance could be blocked off by now, for all I know," he says.

Pulling my legs up, I sit with them crossed, my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands as I look out on the waters of the lake. A seagull caws out and takes flight, and I watch as it soars over the little island. I spare a glance over at Link, whose eyes are locked on to that one little speck of a bird.

"Hey Link," I say.

"Hm?"

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

…

Within a day of staying in the small town, the professor was able to fashion a new mold of Link's arm. "What's this going to do?" I ask him. The goofy man pulls up his goggles, all the better to glare at me. He turns away, not answering me.

Link tells me, however, "It's so he can make a new silicone cover for it. You know, skin." He shrugs.

"But then you can't boast about how you took that bullet in the crook of your elbow right before you set off that explosive in Calatia!"

In confusion, Link frowns at me, and the professor turns round to shoot me a disbelieving look. Catching on, Link tries to hide his growing smirk. "Right!" he chirps. "I mean, where would Hyrule be had I not set off that bomb?"

"I bet you had all the ladies swooning."

The professor grumbles to himself, and jerks Link's arm towards him as he fiddles with the metal casing. "Those nurses were pretty totsy," he reminisces, one hand cupping his chin. "There was this one bearcat- Hey!"

"Quit your yapping! Or I'll smack you broke!" the professor says sharply. "You were never in no war. You never even been to Calatia."

"Um, well, my metal arm says otherwise."

"Your metal arm says you're a machine."

"Oh come on," Link whines with a roll of his eyes. "We were only razzing." The professor whacks Link with his screwdriver in the face again. "If you keep hitting me, you'll make more work for yourself. I don't have nerves."

"Be serious, boy!" Mizuumi chides. "You better scram before I blow you up for gettin' on my nerves. The silicone should be set by tomorrow."

Link throws his hands up. "Alright, alright. You want me to make that delivery for you, right?" Link asks, sliding off of the work table.

Professor Mizuumi grunts in agreement and shuffles off. He picks up a package on the counter and hands it to Link. "Don't go hollerin' about it to everybody, now."

"What is this anyway?" Link asks and curiously shakes the package. He only receives another whack.

"None of your beeswax," the professor says. "I'm telling you, you better watch it."

"I'm not taking it to some bull, am I?"

"Then I'd really never get you back. With those squads around, you're more trouble than a bunch of gangsters, boy." The professor scribbles on a scrap piece of paper and then hands it to Link. "Take it to that address. Got it?"

"Right!" Link gives Mizuumi a salute and dashes out of the lab. The shelves and their contents all rattle on the walls when Link slams the door shut behind him. Mizuumi shakes his head and pulls his goggles down over his eyes. He plops himself down on a rolling stool.

"Hey Professor," I call, and he turns to me, his eyes wide and buggy under the goggle lenses. "How'd you meet Link anyway?"

"As a marionette." Not quite what I was asking, but interesting all the same.

So I say, "Do you know what he was before that?"

"That's a big of an extensive list there, little lady," the professor responds. The stool squeaks and groans as he rolls from one counter to the next around the lab, and I hop up and take a seat on the work table to avoid him. "I remember him telling me about being a scarecrow once. Can you imagine that?

"But the body I've built him _is_ something else," he muses more to himself than to me. "If only there could be some sort of way to get a machine to think… Then I could build a true automaton!" The professor continues to ramble to himself, and I decide to excuse myself.

Slipping out of the lab and away from the professor, I snake my way down the beaten path to the banks of the lake. Little puffs of dirt sprout from each of my footfalls as I make my way through the wooded area.

When the dock comes into view, I see a boat bobbing in the water next to it. A woman tethers it to the dock, and she looks up and spots me. She waves at me as I come up. "Hey!" she greets. "If you're looking for a ride, I'm closing up for the day."

"Oh, no!" I stutter. "I just… I just wanted to sit on the dock is all." She nods in understanding and goes back to getting the boat at hand docked. I glance at the boat, and then out over to the island. I ask her, pointing, "Do you ferry people to that island?"

"Not necessarily," she says. "Nobody really asks to go over there. I mostly run people back and forth across the lake and the rivers is all.

"I don't believe I've seen you around," she comments, changing the subject. "Are you new in town or just passing through?"

"Passing through," I say, sitting down on the dock's edge. "I suppose."

She laughs, and shakes her head. The wild mop of hair on top of her head shakes and sways with her movements. "What kind of answer is that?"

"Well, I'm kind of staying up at that laboratory."

"Oh! With that professor? He's a bit of a nut."

I snort and start to kick my feet. "Tell me about it."

My eyes flick back out to the island for a moment, and then I turn back to the woman docking her boat. "Hey," I call out to her, and she casts me a sideways glance. "Will you be ferrying people tomorrow?"

She smiles cheekily at me. "You wanna get to that island, huh?"

"I would."

She nods, her hair swaying back and forth on top of her head. "Sure thing. I can do that," she tells me as she stretches herself back up to full height. Taking a few long strides over to me, she holds out her hand. "Name's Iza," she says, and I take her proffered hand.

"Zelda."

"Well, Zelda. I'll meet you here tomorrow then. How's eight sound?"

"That sounds lovely."

Iza gives me a two finger salute, and then saunters away down the docks.

…

When I wake, I'm scrabbling for my life, clawing away. "Hey, hey," comes a soft whisper. "It's just me, love." I relax, recognizing the gentle tones of Link's voice. I glance around the room. Link's dark form hovers over me in the dim room, and he moves away to let me up.

"Where's the professor?" I ask him.

Link shrugged. "Some experiment or study he's got going. He started me up."

Groggy, I ask, "Time?"

"About four."

"Four?" I exclaim. "Why in the world are you waking me up now?"

At this, Link suddenly changes. He bites his lip, his eyes shift to the side, and he can't keep his weight on one foot. In that one instant, I'm not looking at a machine. "Just… come on." I frown at him, and he avoids my glare, knowing he's dodging me. Still, I lean down slide Malon's boots on and lace them up.

Link leads me out of the house, and we walk down the now familiar path to the bank of the lake. Even in the dark, it's no problem for us to skip over protruding roots in the path and turn knowingly at forks. Link saunters over to the docks, and I trail behind. Our feet beat the weathered wood, and as we pass by her little boat, Iza floats to the forefront of my mind. In four hours, I'm supposed to meet her here. In four hours, I can go to that little island out on the lake. Link and I come to the stop at the edge of the dock, and I look out at the island.

A shiver runs itself up my spine as Link plops himself on the edge and lets his feet dangle, and I point out to the island. "Link, what's that?" I blurt.

"Hm?"

"Out there, on the island," I say, my hand still raised. "Don't you see it?"

Link cranes his neck to follow my finger where out in the trees of the little island is a glowing light of blue. It bobs up and down, obscured by the foliage, but even through that and the distance, the light bobbing in such a dark place is hard to miss. "It's a poe," Link finally says.

"A poe?"

"A restless spirit. They come out at night mostly and will attack the living." I settle down on the dock next to him, my eyes still glued to the poe out on the island. "There's a story actually, about them."

"There's always a story."

Link chuckles a little, but doesn't comment on my interjection. "This was before my time, mind you. It's a story that originated from the Twilight Era."

"How fitting."

"Indeed." I start to kick my legs, feeling the breeze waft up from the water. "There was a man who took for granted all his intangible possession. He was obsessed with money and material wealth. Most of this kind of greed was fueled by his desire to impress a woman."

"Well that's shallow," I spit.

"The woman?"

"Yeah. Why would anyone want a girl like that? A real gold digger."

Link shakes his head. "Unfortunately, dear, they're out there." I sneer, but keep my comments to myself to let him continue. "Anyway, he wanted all the riches in the world so he could shower her with gifts and, maybe in turn, gain her affection as well. He was offered a deal by a poe where he could have all that he wanted, but his soul would be theirs.

"The man readily agreed, thinking they would only come for him when Death stopped at his door. This, however, was not the case."

"So he didn't get anything he was promised?"

Link laughs, "Oh no! He did!" I draw my legs up, and turn myself to face him. "See, they gave him everything. They filled his house to the brim with gold and precious gems. His clothes were woven from the finest silk, and large emeralds encrusted the vest he wore. However, the poe also turned the man into gold. The poe stole the man's eyes and replaced them with rubies. He sold his soul for gold, so what was left but to be gold?" I snort, but Link ignores me and continues to fixate his eyes on the island. "The man was to sit frozen with his cat on his head for the rest of eternity," Link says before falling silent.

"'Was'," I say. "So what happened?"

"Clever as ever, I see," Link mutters. And then he turns to look at me. "They say that the Hero of Light was actually the one to break the curse."

I quirk an eyebrow at this. "Really?"

"The hero was well traveled, and eventually, the hero destroyed all the poes in the land that held a piece of the man's soul."

"But the main lesson was the vices of greed."

"Exactly."

A pregnant silence blooms between us, and Link and I sit comfortably at the edge of the pier. I glance over at Link, and realizing he's not going to say anything first, I break the silence. "Sooo… did he ever get the girl?" I ask him.

Link chuckles, and I see that familiar little pop of his shoulders. "No, actually."

"What! He went through all of that for nothing?"

"Pretty much," Link laughs. "The girl ended up going with some other man."

I shake my head. "You're something else. Now are you going to tell me why you dragged me out here so early?"

"I had a dream," Link says huskily.

"Oh?" I scoot a little closer. "Of what?"

Noticing my interest, Link lets out an airy laugh. "I'm not totally sure, actually," he admits to me. "I was wearing my old tunic and had all my knight equipment on me, but I was standing in a desert."

"So, you didn't recognize where you were at?" I push.

Link smiles at my knowing. "No, I didn't. And the strange part is that I've never been to a desert in my life."

"You've traveled basically everywhere though!"

"And what did you just say?"

I grumble in response, but he was right. The answer came right out of my own mouth. "Okay, well, what else happened?"

"I saw this huge, old temple," Link says with a little hesitation. "I think it was a temple at least. I'm not sure. It was built into these mountains, and there was a fort at the base of it. I was standing in between the fort and the temple entrance."

"What time of day?"

Link scratches at the back of his head, one of his more human gestures. "Night. There were torches burning and a pit fire back at the fort, but the temple itself seemed void of any light."

"Sounds creepy."

"The professor woke me up just before I walked into the temple though, so…" Link trails, and then he shrugs his shoulders, not know what else to say on the subject. "Should I give you a rupee for your thoughts?"

I laugh lightly. "No thanks. But I'm not sure what to think of that." A seagull caws over the lake. "You really only recently started dreaming in your off times though?"

"Yeah. It's like blinking. Or at least it was. Now it's like I'm actually sleeping."

"I told this woman who runs a ferry service I'd meet her here at eight," I tell Link, changing the subject.

"You want to go to the island, don't you?"

I smile sheepishly. "Can't fool you, huh?"

"Nope."

"You want to come with?"

"Don't see any reason not to," Link chirps. "We'll have to be back though in the afternoon. The professor wants me to make another delivery for him."

"We can't stay here forever, Link."

He grimaces and falls back on the dock. "I know," he grumbles. "I'm just trying to do him some favors since he's been putting us up, but I don't know where to go now."

"You talked about Ordon, why don't we go there?"

"I don't know, love."

"We're going to Ordon," I say.

"Why are so intent on helping me with this?"

I shoot him a glare. "Well gee, I'm currently stuck with the one man who probably not only has me on some sort of wanted list for magic, but also has left me stranded."

"You could have stayed with Malon."

"With a magical and technologically advanced coin-operated doll? That would end well, don't you think?" Link only gives me a dead-panned look. "You pulled me into a mess, and I don't even know what's going on, because you're so tight lipped about it. The way I see, you and I are officially stuck with each other until further notice."

Link digs into his pocket. He pulls out a silver pocket watch and flips the cover open. "On another note, what say we head back into town?" he asks, dodging me once more. I frown at him. "You'll want to eat something before we go."

"I'm not describing my meal in full detail for you." When I see Link roll his glassy eyes, I smack him right in the head.

"Hey! What is with you and the professor?" he shouts. "You know that doesn't do anything."

I retort, "Anything but annoy you."

…

Before we even make it up to the shore, I'm leaping from the boat, Link calling after me, "Wait up, lady!" He jumps out after me, barely missing the rocks and falling into the water.

"Hey!" Iza calls out. "I'll be back for you guys right here at one."

"Right! Thank you!" I yell back, and I give her a wave. Even Link throws up a hand to her as she pulls the boat away from the little island's shore line. There's a small flick of her wrist as she speeds off into the distance.

Link turns to me, a playful smirk on his face. "I'm surprised she didn't say anything about my arm," he says with mock disappointment. "I mean, I have tons of great war stories."

"Maybe you can entertain her about being on the Calatian front lines on the way back," I razz right back, turning away. My eye scan the dense vegetation around us, but there's no sign of any light other than sunlight.

"Looking for that poe we saw earlier?"

"Sort of."

"They generally disappear when daybreak comes," he tells me with a shrug and starts to take off into the brush. "It's probably better that we don't run into it."

"Why's that?" I call to his back as I chase after him, dodging bushes and tree branches.

"They can be… a bit violent," he says, and I stop in my tracks.

"What?"

"Remember that I told you they're restless?"

I grumble a response and hurry to catch up to the mechanical man. "Hey! You know where you're going here?"

Link shrugs. "Eh, kind of."

"That's reassuring," I mutter, tripping a little over an exposed root.

We wind through the woods for nearly an hour with little sense of direction it seems until we reach a sculpted formation. My stomach churning, I surge forward past Link to go to it. The pant legs of Malon's overalls crumple and catch on one another and the bushes rustle as I shoot past. I skitter to a stop in front of what looks like a cave entrance, but old sculptures surround the entryway. There's no real sense of what they are as bits and pieces have broken off and weather has caused any details in the carvings to have worn away. I reach out and touch the cool stone surface.

Link stumbles out of the brush, and I whip around to look at him. "What is this?" I ask him, stepping back towards him and pointing at the entrance.

"This, dear, is the shrine of Lanayru," Link says. "There used to be huge statues of snakes guarding the outside of it."

"Snakes?"

"The guardian of this shrine is supposedly to take the form of a snake," Link explains, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His eyes flicker up to the battered stone formation above the shrine entrance.

"What's wrong?"

"You can go in, but I can't."

"Why?"

Link shakes his head. "Don't worry about it," he says softly. He pulls a hand out of his pocket to gesture at the shrine. "If you want to go in, go in. I'll wait out here." And his hand returns to the pocket.

With a few quick looks between my companion and the shrine, I start to head towards the shrine with some hesitation and caution. Broken stone tiles make a walkway into the shrine, where in between the tiles grass and weeds had long since begun to spring forth. My boots clack on the stone as I enter the tunnel to the shrine. A strange gust of warmth from within the shrine rolls out to me the further I walk into it. In the tunnel's growing darkness, I reach out a hand to skim my fingers along the wall to feel my way through.

The warmth intensifies and envelops me like a cloak. It slithers around me and bead of perspiration begin to form on my brow and the back of my neck. I stop and roll up the sleeves of the button up shirt I borrowed from Malon. My fingers graze the wall again, and I start to move. The tunnel goes deeper and light begins to slowly break through the darkness.

I finally come to an open cavern where an ethereal light illuminates the pool of water. In this space without sunlight, even grass has been able to grow, and disbelieving, I stoop down to run my hand through the blades, just to make sure they're really there, that they're actually real. The blades scrape and scratch my palm and fingers. Standing straight, I move forward to the edge of the pool. Lilly pads float lazily on the surface of the water, and little flecks of light bob and drift past me in the air. The orbs swirl around the cavern, casting golden light.

I lay down on my stomach in the grass and reach down the little drop to the pool. My fingers skim the water's surface, and although the water is warm, gooseflesh bubbles up on my arm. The chill that runs through my body makes me shiver.

I gasp.

A pulse of gold bursts forth from my fingertips and ripple through the water.

* * *

><p>Hey guys. It's way short today, but I wanted to get out before I disappear for a little while. The next chapter of <em>Zombie Cake<em> is halfway finished, but I'm not sure when I'll get that up. I was also hoping to finally start posting another story I completed, but I've turned it into another long one, so once again, I have another work in progress for you guys.

Yesterday one of my boy's friends and a classmate I went to school with was run over by a train. His foot was severed, but he survived, and was actually conscious to call 911 himself and was still awake when they airlifted him to a hospital about 45 minutes away. He was in surgery all day yesterday to amputate the bottom half of one of his legs. He was supposed to go into surgery again today, but it has been postponed until tomorrow. They have him highly sedated, and this is all I know. I actually heard his 911 call on the news last night, and it was a little disconcerting.

So, I don't know when I'll be back to writing or responding to you guys' messages and reviews, but I wanted to let you all know I'm flying the coop for a while.

:c


	7. In the Doldrums Waiting for Me

Coin-Operated

7.0

In the Doldrums Waiting for Me

My fingers go numb.

I jerk my hand out of the water just in time before frost cracks over the surface right where my fingers were. The orbs of light move in a startled frenzy, shooting into the water. The pool of water freezes over, and in a huff, my breath puffs out from me in a white cloud, but I strangely don't _feel_ cold at all. The only light remaining in the cavern comes from the glowing, golden water. Cautiously, I lean back down towards the pool and let my fingers skim across the water's frozen surface. It's normal, if it could be called that. It's cold, it's slippery, just like ice should be.

I jump at the sounds of the ice cracking. The light under the ice begins to shift, pulsing into a massive shape in the center of the pool that's pushing against the layer of ice. Water gushes upwards when the ice finally breaks away, splashing me. But it's not cold. It's warm. I scramble to my feet, but before I can so much as take one step, I'm pulled back and thrown into the hole in the ice. Bubbles scatter from me as I thrash in the pool. The golden mass quickly coils around me and my vision goes black when it constricts me.

**…**

"Page!" I jerk at the voice and wrench open my screwed shut eyes. It's a courtyard of sorts. Spring air wafts under my nose, carrying the sweet scent of newly bloomed flowers and dew. Birds chirp and chatter from their posts on the edge of the roof of the surrounding building. A little red one in particular seems to cheer with its chatter. Standing next to me is a boy no older than thirteen. He wears a rusty orange colored tunic with a red shirt and hose. Brown leather slippers cover his feet. In his hands is a practice staff which he brings up and skillfully swings one way and then swoops back another. The whole pattern of the exercise makes him move in a complex dance around the courtyard. "Page!" the voice calls again, and the boy immediately slams the staff into the stone as he straightens up to greet a man coming out of the building.

"Yes sir?" he squeaks, his voice cracking as he quickly swipes his scraggly, dirty blond bangs out of his face.

The man crinkles his nose at the boy's disheveled look, but he says nothing of it and shoves forth a sealed envelope. "Take this to Sir Raven immediately," he instructs the boy, "and, by Din, there will be hell to pay should you break the seal."

The boy takes the sealed envelope with only a slight hesitation. "Yes sir," the boy obliges and hurries off towards the building. The man, the birds and the courtyard begin to fade into white, and I take off after the boy where the world continues to remain solid when the world of white begins to crawl under my feet. I rush after him and see him place the practice staff in a room before hurrying down the corridor, the envelope firmly in his hand.

He gives a small of yelp of surprise when he turns a corner, and when he comes into view, I see him stumble back from a small, almost frail and mousy looking boy. Immediately, he stoops down to pick up the books scattered about on the floor. The other boy is dressed in the same uniform as the one I followed. The blond boy holds out to the other one the small stack of books and mumbles, "Sorry." His face is tinted a slight pink as the mousy boy takes the stack.

"It's fine," the other page says, and I suddenly realize from the pitch that the other is actually female, her hair chopped to her earlobes. "It's my fault, I was reading and walking." Clutching the books to her chest, the female page holds out the sealed envelope. "Running an errand?"

"Ah- yes," the boy says, fumbling over himself as he takes the letter. "The training master asked me to take it to Sir Raven."

"Well, you're going to wrong way now. I think he's actually down by the stables right now instead of his quarters," she tells him. "I saw him not too long ago."

The boy looks a little surprised at this. "Really, that's odd."

The girl shrugs, tucking a lock of one of her strawberry blonde curls behind her ear. "Come on, then," she says brightly, moving forward. "I'll walk with you."

"Um… alright."

"Have you been studying?" she asks as the other page jogs to catch up to her brisk pace. "Exams are coming."

"I know, I know," he says, falling in step with the female page. "I'm a little worried though."

"You'll be fine. You're a natural-"

"At everything but the books," he interjects. "You know they make all the pages do an oral exam now in front of the court to prevent those with magic from cheating. With your brains, you'll pass that with flying colors next year."

The girl laughs, a slight bitterness edging it. "I worry that no knight will take me on."

"What? Why? You're the-"

This time the female page cuts him off. "My station doesn't matter. Even though by law girls are allowed to be pages, did you forget that I was on probation my first year? People still have tradition shoved so far up their ass."

He comments, "That's uncouth."

"What is uncouth are the attitudes surrounding female knighthood," she says hotly as we reach the end of the corridor. "I barely got a sponsor my first year, and no boy wants me to sponsor them now." She stops and looks down at her leather slippers. "If it's such an issue as a page, what'll it be like as a squire?" she asks, her voice suddenly soft and meek.

And as the boy opens the door at the end of the corridor, the white light fills it up and engulfs the whole scene.

I blink, and, suddenly, I find myself in a new room… or tent. I turn to see a young man pouring over a map on a tree stump that serves as a makeshift desk. Light flickers from a candle in a lantern that sits on the stump to illuminate the map. With the mop of messy, dirty blond hair, I recognize the young man as the boy I saw before, just a few years older. The baby fat in his face is gone and his features are more defined and sharper. He sniffs a little as his brow creases. He no longer wears a page uniform, and instead sits wearing a plain green tunic. Chainmail rests between the tunic and the cream pants and shirt. Worn, brown leather gauntlets cover his hands and forearms as he cracks his knuckles absently.

The tent flap whips open. "Doing that brings pain in your later years, dear," a woman calls out as she enters the tent.

"Lady Knight," he says in greeting, not even looking up from the map as she stalks into the sparsely furnished tent, letting the flap close behind her. She flops onto the man's bedroll. Her strawberry blonde hair has grown out from behind her earlobes, stopping just under her shoulders, but the resemblance is still there. It's the female page and, like her friend, no longer wears the page uniform. She, too, is dressed in a similar tunic uniform with the only difference between the two being that hers is a deep navy.

"They're going to have you map out those woods?" she asks after a minute of quiet.

"Mm…"

She frowns at him, rising up from the bedroll. "I'll see if the duke will let me come with you," she offers.

"It's fine," he mumbles.

"They say those woods are magicked though," she tells him, plopping herself down next to him at the stump. "And if you get lost, you turn into a skeleton of sorts." She pinches his side, and he tries to swat her hands away. "But I suppose you're not too far off from that, are you?"

"I eat fine, thank you, milady."

"Why're you so formal with me? You know you don't have to be."

"You do realize what all the other knights have been saying about us," he sighs, "don't you?"

She says flatly, "But they're not true."

"I know that, but it's still problematic."

"How so?"

"You say 'How so?' when you won't even keep the flap open?" he asks her in disbelief, gesturing over to the entrance.

She casts a brief glance over at the tent's entrance and rolls her eyes. "Oh come on, now. We're not squires anymore."

"You're still an unmarried lady," he sighs in exasperation.

She blinks at this, but then cracks a smile. She pinches his cheek as he sneers at her. "Aw, it's nice to know that you care enough about my reputation, but I don't think I'm the marrying type." She continues to tease him, saying, "Unless of course you're willing, love."

"I made a commitment to duty, sorry," he retorts, turning away from her with the map to get away from her grasp.

"Oi! Brother!" The tent opens back up and another man steps in, dressed in a similar tunic uniform. Upon seeing the female knight in the tent, he quickly ties the flap open.

For a moment, my heart stops at the sight of him. I say, "Link?"

My interjection goes unnoticed by the other three in the tent. My nonexistence is confirmed when the man I believe to be Link walks right through me as if I am nothing more than a mere ghost.

"You ought to cut that hair of yours," Link says to the other man.

The young knight in green scoffs. "You're one to talk," he replies in reference to Link's untamed head of golden blond hair. I look between the two brothers, and I can see the resemblance. While one clearly looks to be younger, less haggard by the life of a knight, they could be mirror images of one another if their hair was the same shade of blond.

"Well I hope you're treating the lady with a little more respect than that."

"Yes!" she exclaims, throwing a hand to her forehead. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't interrupted and saved me from his brutish ways."

"You're the one who never leaves the tent open," he reminds her sharply, his back still to her.

"Hodgepodge, love!" she says with a swat at his back as Link comes around to look at the map in the other knight's hands. "He's really most foul; I'm forever in your debt, Sir Knight."

Link chuckles and grins at the woman before focusing back on the map. Link opens his mouth to say something to the knight in green when we all jump at the sudden blast of a horn. The three knights wait a moment before the horn sounds again, and Link says, "They need archers. Grab your bows."

Link and the female knight rush out of the tent while the knight in green quickly throws on and secures his equipment belt, strapping his sword and shield to his back. He picks up his longbow and scrambles out of the tent while he slings his quiver over his shoulder, leaving his armor behind. I try to follow, but the world goes black when the tent flap shuts closed behind him.

**…**

"So it _is_ you." The voice is neither male nor female. The feeling of its omnipotence washes through me as I break the surface of the water. I cough a little as I'm set back onto the grassy ground. I hack a little more at what lies before me with what little breath I still have in my lungs. The golden mass spiraled up from the water, coiling this way and that.

"Are y- are you the guardian?" I ask, stumbling stupidly over my words.

The golden mass slithers fully up onto the ice, and the golden snake rears its head at me. "I am," it says to me. "I am the light spirit Lanayru."

"What was that that I was seeing before?"

"Memories," it tells me simply.

"I saw one of my friends in one."

"Indeed." The golden snake slips quietly up onto the grass. Its golden scales shimmer and shine, lighting up the cavern. "The friend that waits for you outside my lair is fairly special."

"Because of what he is?"

"Yes and no," the snake tells me, and I feel a twinge at its vague responses.

I ask the guardian, "Why won't you let him come in?"

"Now is not the time for him and me to meet, young one," the guardian replies. "While it has been lifetimes since he and I have spoken, never have I had the pleasure until now of speaking to you."

"What're you talking about?"

"Have you not noticed how your magic has been changing?"

"I have."

The snake bobs its head as it regards me. It swoops in from behind, and I watch as it coils itself around me again. "The magic you possess is of ancient quality," the snake whispers to me. Its scales ripple with light as it closes in on me. "A true masterwork in itself, but it will be completely useless to you if you do not figure out how to control it."

"Are you talking about the gold magic?" I ask.

"I am," the snake replies. Its tongue flickers out of its mouth, and I feel the edge of it tickle my cheek. "Containing the magic is one thing, but to master it is another. Do you understand?"

"I do," I breathe. "But why did it suddenly change? Link mentioned I must have come into contact with something prior to set it off."

"That is not for me to answer," the snake tells me, and I groan in frustration. The guardian gives me a little squeeze, but whether it's to comfort me or to get me to attention, I'm not sure. "But I shall tell you this: the contact does not have to be physical. It could be something intangible."

"Something intangible," I mumble to myself.

The light spirit unwinds itself from me and slithers back down to the pool. Its tail flicks absently as I turn back to face it. "That is all for now," the guardian says. "There are other light spirits in this land. Visit them if you choose, and maybe they, too, shall impart some wisdom to you."

"Wait!" I shout out, scrambling to the edge when I see the spirit begin to make its descent back into the water. "My friend though. He's stuck like that. Isn't there anything that can be done to return him to normal… or- or something!"

The light spirit Lanayru pauses and regards me for a moment. My heart sinks a little at his reply. "That is also something that I am afraid I am not allowed to impart at this time. Do know that that is Her Will," the spirit says. "Farewell, young one." And with that, the snake sinks back down through the hole in the ice.

When the last bit of gold disappears under the surface, the ice begins to crack. It shatters in a massive wave, and my arms fly up to protect my face, and I turn on my heels. When the pool settles back down, I lower my arms and turn back. Slowly the small orbs of golden light leave the water and go back to silently drifting throughout the cavern, continuing to shed it in their ethereal glow. Looking back down into the water, it's almost as if none of that ever even happened. No signs of the ice remain, and I shove a hand into the pool. The water is warm as it ever was with no hint of there being a chill.

My hand in the water also does nothing to bring forth the light spirit once again. It really is done speaking with me for now. So pursing my lips, I hurry back out of the cavern, stumbling a little in the dark.

**…**

"I want to leave," I say to Link as I stir my soup around in the bowl. The professor was gone from the laboratory again when we returned, and he'd actually left a note saying he'd gone out on the lake to try and investigate something or other this time around.

Link quirks an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Please. Let's just get your arm covered and go," I say.

He cocks his head. "So… did you meet with the light spirit?" he asks me.

"I did. And it's real. And it's a snake," I tell him.

"What'd it tell you?"

"Nothing really," I lie. "It said it had been waiting a long time to meet me."

"So where you wanna go then?"

"I want to go to the woods around Ordon."

Link grunts. "Nonsense, love," he says, and almost immediately, I can hear the woman's voice in my head saying, "_Hodgepodge, love!_" He shakes his head. "Those woods are strange," he tells me, his eyes flicking around the diner as he eyes the other patrons. "They're a total maze and very few people have ever been able to navigate them and then get out alive."

"I have a feeling about the woods though," I insist. "They're magicked. What better place for two people living in a place where magic is hunted?"

"You talkin' about them squads?" a man asks from the next booth over. Link turns around and shoots him a look. "They're terrible really."

"Haven't seen much of them around here though," I say to the drifter.

He swipes under his nose before saying, "Yeah, well…" He leans in closer towards us and drops his voice some. "You know they took a few Zoras not long ago. Makes no sense. They're just innocent laborers."

"Who probably possess magical abilities, and therefore pose a threat," Link says. "Face it," Link whispers harshly to the drifter, "this is some crazy plot for oppression and power."

"Isn't power what any man wants?" the drifter asks, and then he turns back to his food.

Link looks over at me, his brow knitted. I merely shrug in response.

He sighs. "Ordon it is, love."

**…**

Link stares in shock at the bustling town Ordon has become since he last patrolled the little village as a knight.

When trying to leave for Ordon, Link and I had originally planned to take a train out to the sleepy town, only to find out through complaining residents that squads are located at every station throughout the country. They stand waiting for each arrival and departure, checking every person and bag with Lenses for any sign of magic. If Link were still actually human, when I looked at him upon hearing this information, I'm sure he would have been drained of color.

"What's your opinion on hitchicking?"

So hitchhike it was. We walked, sticking our thumbs out at any passing vehicle until one stopped. Most of the time, the cars would whizz right on by us. We generally had better luck when it came to truck drivers, and the truckers were usually able to take us father than cars were willing to. While it took exponentially longer to get to Ordona Province from Lanayru, we made it in one piece with next to no mishaps. There was the occasional weirdo we got a ride from, and rather than risk anything, Link and I would cut our rides from them short and find a new one.

While the professor sent us off with some cash, a good chunk of it coins to keep Link running, we worked up a lie, telling our potential rides that we were out of cash and gave them the biggest sob story would could come up with on the spot for them to let us into the vehicle. It usually worked. I mean, we got to Ordon, didn't we?

"It's changed a lot, huh?" I ask Link.

"Yeah," he breathes, looking all around him. "It has."

He points over to a watermill, saying to me, "That mill right there… that building used to be a house."

"Looks old."

"It's the same building," he tells me. "I can see they've done repairs on it over the years, but I doubt it's still somebody's home. They family that lived there was the one that was most responsible for the pumpkin fields and tending to them. The whole village would help out during harvest time, though."

Drinking in the town, I could see how some of the sights might be familiar to Link. There were buildings clearly ages older than the other buildings all around them spattered here and there. "It's so mismashed," I chuckle. "They kept everything and just built around it."

"Still so different," Link mutters. "There used to be only dirt in the place!" He gestures to the cobblestones under our feet, and I let out a soft laugh.

"Come on," I say. I grab his arm and begin to drag him down the main road. "Let's go find that inn you were talking about earlier. I feel filthy."

It takes a while to find it on the winding streets of the old town, but Link and I finally come across it. Link heads to the reception desk to take care of the room, but from the moment I set foot into the Ancient Ram Inn, I'm struck by a certain portrait hanging on the plaster wall in between two wooden support columns.

With slow and shaky steps, I move towards the portrait of a knight dressed in ceremonial armor. Fierce and feral cobalt eyes draw me in to the portrait's allure. Golden blond hair spills out from the knight's head, his helmet tucked under one arm and his broadsword in his left hand. The light spirit said what I had witnessed were memories, but I was shocked still to find living proof of what I'd seen. "_Oi! Brother!_"

I squeeze my eyes shut.

"You know, love, I'm still kind of surprised to know that this place is still standing after… Zelda?"

I whip my head over in Link's direction.

His eyes are locked onto the portrait, just as captivated by it as I am.

"Is this you?" I ask him just above a whisper.

Link looks back at the receptionist, who eyes a little warily. He steps up next to me in front of the portrait. "No," he tells me. I look back at the portrait. I could have sworn that this was Link. Link as he was when he was a living breathing being. The Link that I saw in the memory.

"But it looks almost identical to you!"

He quickly looks back at the receptionist one more time and sees that she's back to lazing behind the counter, flipping through a magazine. "It was actually this portrait that the professor based this body off of," Link tells me.

"Then who is that?"

"I was never important enough," Link says, "to have a portrait commissioned of me, and Termina coveted the technology for a pictograph at the time. There is nothing but written records about me.

"My brother, however, was something else. This is his portrait."

I swallow the lump in my throat. The man I originally thought to be Link wasn't Link at all. "_Oi! Brother!_"

The knight in green.

"We looked similar enough," Link says, "that I had the professor base the mold for this body off it."

"Why was your brother so much more important than you?"

"Sir Raven saved the king's life on more than one occasion." Link admits to me, "While I made it into the King's Horos as a knight like my brother, I was often chosen to chart out the territory that my squad was sent out in."

"The King's Horos?"

"It was a band of elite knights chosen by the king," Link explains. "It didn't take them long to pick me out for the group's cartographer."

He jumps a little when the door to the inn opens up, and the receptionist gives a tired greeting. "Why don't we talk in the room?" he mutters, eyeing the newcomers that are laughing amongst themselves.

"Fine," I sigh.

I follow him down the narrow halls to our room. Once inside, Link locks up the door and double checks the window. "What're you doing?" I call out to him as he rifles through the room. I sit down on the bed, watching as Link rushes around the room.

"Just double checking for anything odd," he mumbles as he rips open drawers. Then he slams them shut with resounding snaps before flinging the wardrobe open.

I turn my sight inward. The vines that protected me during the fire have retreated, and my core, while much larger now, looks much the same. Everything looks normal. There is no fluttering of wings, no warnings cawing at me. Everything is contained. Everything is clean. Trusting that my instincts are right, there is nothing threating in the room, and I pull my eyes back out.

Satisfied that there is nothing in the wardrobe, he throws the doors shut and moves on to the bathroom. Link's shoes click on the wooden floors and then the tile as he enters the bathroom. The shower curtain scrapes on the rod when he pulls it back. He rummages a little more before coming back into the room.

"Happy?" I ask, craning my neck to look at him.

He sighs and then walks over to the window where a large armchair sits by side table and a radio. He runs his hand through his hair as he plops down into the chair.

With no sign of a response from him, I say, "So you were a cartographer."

"I like to think I was an adventurer of sorts."

I flop back on the bed and then roll over onto my stomach. "I thought knights were supposed to be trained for war and stuff?"

"I was born during a peacetime, remember love?" He grunts, laughing a little. Link says, "Peace with other countries. There were issues regarding monstrous creatures attacking on the outer borders of the country at the time." The war horn blares loud and clear in my mind. Sir Raven's voice cuts through me deep, calling for Link and the lady knight to arm themselves with bows.

"Mapmaking and scouting were some of the most important things a knight could learn outside of combat, and I had a knack for both," continues Link. "Due to the magical properties of the woods surrounding Ordon and Faron, my squad from the King's Horos was sent to try and push back the invading monsters. My particular task in the group was to try and chart the woods." I close my eyes, and the flickering of the flame from the lantern sparks to life. It dances before me, illuminating the knight in green. Illuminating Link as he was, as he should have always been. Messy hair and feral eyes that swim with human emotion.

I open my eyes. Link flicks his gaze over to me, look up from his feet. He sighs again, but there is nothing but the cold glass reflecting back.

"Did you?"

"The woods would change almost daily, dear," he laughs. "A map I made one day could be suddenly useless the next.

"The one thing I learned I could count on though," says Link, "was that there was a certain area that changed with the days. The forest closest to here is normal to say the least… but…" Link rubs the back of his neck as he thinks over on his explanation.

I press, "But?"

He purses his lips into a thin line, and then says, "Think of Ordona and Faron as two points on a triangle."

"Okay…"

"Faron is the top left point, Ordona the bottom. This area of woods is the top right point of the triangle. Make sense?"

"I suppose."

"All the woods surrounding this particular area didn't change, but within this point, the magic flowed freely, altering paths on a regular basis."

He says nothing more, and for a while, I allow my mind to wander. The information I've been given today is a lot, and I take advantage of the silence and the momentary peace in the room to process everything. There is nothing in the air but the soft calling of birds outside the window and the sharp tick-tock of the room's wall clock. I close my eyes and roll onto my back, falling into a meditative state. My thoughts drift back to my first conversation with Link on the subject of his past and his knighthood in particular. My mind turns over the information like a well-oiled machine. Link's voice slides through the pipelines of my mind as one particular mentioning pops up. My fingers tingle with energy.

"Does the point have anything to do with that ancient sword you had?" I ask.

There's a slight pause before Link replies in a mumble with, "Clever as ever, love.

"It has everything to do with the sword," Link tells me. He further explains, "The magic that flowed through the woods to alter it day by day was put in place as just one layer of protection in keeping the wrong hands from ever grasping it."

"Where's the sword now?"

"I was able to put it back to rest in the woods," says Link.

"I'm going to shower," I say softly, dragging myself from the bed to the bathroom.

Link calls out from the other side of the door as I strip down, "Why don't we pick you up some new clothes when you're done?"

I holler back that that sounded fine. While I could fit in Malon's clothes, they were a little irritable being so baggy on me.

With my hair still wet and my dirty, borrowed clothes, Link and I leave the inn. We wander around town, passing by stores and glancing in their window fronts. Link groans as we pass another storefront, "There has to be some sort of thrift shop around here."

"Link, have you noticed anything?"

"'Bout what?" he says, frowning as we come upon a general store.

"About the people." Link takes a brief look around us, but he makes no other reply but a soft grunt. Unlike Lanayru Province, down here in Ordona, there seems to be a bigger population of round ear humans over Hylians. A small group of boys clamber past us, laughing and hooting as they chase one of their group down the street. Each of them holds in their hands a trashcan lid like a shield. It's a mixture of Hyruleans and Hylians. "It seems less discriminatory around here," I comment.

"Less capital influence," Link replies.

"Ah! Finally!" he exclaims, and he leads me into a thrift shop. He pulls the green tweed cap Mido left him off of his head as we begin to float through the racks of discarded clothing.

"Do you need anything?" I ask him.

Link says, "I don't think so." He frowns and glances down at his clothes. "I don't smell or anything, do I?"

I snort. "I guess not, but maybe we should get you at least one change of clothes," I suggest, "in case you get dirty."

"Of course, Mother."

"Will you quit it with the nicknames?" I snap, hearing the female knight echoing in my head. "_Hodgepodge, love!_"

"Terms of endearment, darling," he drawls.

I roll my eyes, picking through the racks. "Whatever you say, lemon sherbet."

"I don't even know what sherbet tastes like," he mumbles with dejection.

With a few changes of clothes and small duffel to carry what little we have on us, Link and I leave the thrift store and wander back to the inn. Link settles back into the arm, flipping the radio on. News prattles on, but Link quickly changes the station. He stops in his dial turning to listen for a minute to a children's radio show. Gun fire and roaring calls from pirates sound out in the background as I go into the bathroom to change clothes. He settles on a music station where a trumpet blares like a live wire in time with a thumping double bass.

"I think I'm going to go outside for a while," I say, looking out at the green space beyond the inn's property where a creeks flows. "May I have the key?"

"Sure," he says, and digs the key out of his pocket. I take it from him as he tells me, "Just don't go too far."

"I just want to go down to that creek for a little while and maybe get a Po' Boy," I tell him. "I haven't eaten dinner yet."

"It'll be dark soon," Link reminds me as I walk out the door.

A half hour later and I'm sitting on the bank of the creek, already almost through my sub sandwich. I sit, munching on my food like a rabid animal, and I watch the water drift by in the creek. Eventually, it will flow down to the watermill house Link pointed out to me earlier. Little Ordonian fireflies flicker in the fading light, and in this moment in time, it's almost as if I never met some mechanical man, had my flat broken into, abandoned my job and survived a wildfire. A part of me lets me wander to the more comforting idea that I've just taken a long holiday to get away from the city life and enjoy the more rural areas of Hyrule.

I snort and crush the paper wrapper that once contained my sandwich.

A giggle floats to my ears, and I turn my head to see a little girl flying down the hillside in a full fledge run, a bottle in one hand, the lid in the other. She scampers across the green space in one direction, then another. I watch as she zigzags all around me until I finally call out to her, "What're you doing?"

She stops, and blinks as if noticing me sitting by the bank for the first time. The little girl moves a little closer to me, huffing and puffing as she tries to catch her breath. Her hair, pulled back into pigtails, is an unruly mess and matted to her forehead in sweat where she makes a quick swipe at her bangs. "I'm trying to catch the bugs," she tells me.

"Well, it's getting dark," I say. "Shouldn't you head on home soon? Your parents might be getting worried."

She looks up at the sky.

"Here," I say getting up from my spot, "why don't I help you catch a couple?" I wipe my bottom clean of stray blades of grass.

"How?" she says. "They're too fast."

"You see how they flicker with light every now and then?" I ask her, and she nods her head. "That's their way of talking to one another," I say. "They're trying to find a mate."

I hold out my hands as if cupping an invisible ball and close my eyes. I search out my magical core, and I begin to pull a little from it. The magic pulses through my chest, it slithers down my arms and then tingles at my fingertips. I open my eyes as a small ball of light winds itself to light in between my hands.

The little girl next to me gasps in delight as she watches the golden light come to life.

"And now let's see if we can call them," I tell her. I let the ball of light fade out almost completely before igniting it again. The light pulses in between my hands, and soon there are a number of small Ordonian fireflies flickering back at us.

The girl squeals in delight as she catches a few in the jar and then she plops herself onto the ground to watch as the bugs flutter around us, attracted by my light.

"Agitha!" a sharp shout sounds. The little girls jumps a little. "What are you doing?" a woman yells as she rushes down the hillside.

"The nice firefly lady is helping Agitha catch bugs," she says.

I drop my hands, extinguishing the light magic as I see the woman glare at me.

"Get up this instant!" she barks as she pulls the girl up from the ground. "Come on," she ushers, "we're going home."

Agitha worms her way around and calls back to me, "Thank you, firefly lady!"

But her I hear her mother grumble to her, "Don't speak to her, Agitha."

* * *

><p>I got kind of stuck for a bit after the light spirit scene. When it came to Link's past, I was like, Is it too soon? What should I reveal? Is that too much? And blahdiblah. I just went for it. It seemed like otherwise Link and Zelda would just be kind of floundering around. That's just boring. And I'd been mention going to Ordon for like the last two chapters.<p>

Anyway. I feel a little mixed on this, but I am really happy with how some of the details are starting to fall into place. I feel like I'm setting traps. Bahaha.

Also, I posted an update on Crab Claws if you guys are interested in what I've been doing this summer. I've been training and doing training on making donuts. So for all you ZC people, more bakery goodness. ZC's chapter is like more than half way there, but I'm not totally sure when I'll get around to finishing it. We had a guy get fired yesterday and the other donut maker has MIA, and she was declared to have abandoned her job yesterday too. SO. MEGA OVERTIIIIME. I need the money.

Whelps. I should have gone to bed like two hours ago. SO YOU BETTER HAVE ENJOYED THIS.

8D


	8. Keep Your Hands Dry

Coin-Operated

8.0

Keep Your Hands Dry

"Calm down, calm down," Link coos as he locks the door behind me. He draws me in with one arm to his chest as he leads me further into the room. He slips the key from my hand and tosses it onto the' bedside table. "What happened?" he asks, gentle waves in his mechanical tone.

"I..." I sniffle again. "I was just trying to help this girl catch some fireflies.

"I'm sorry," I say, wiping a stinging eye. "It's stupid. I shouldn't have done it, I know."

"Done what?" asks Link as his eyebrows crunch in. He sets me firmly on the bed, and then he seats himself next to me. The bed sinks under the new weight.

I stutter out that I'd used my magic while I was out. "It was only to attract the bugs," I tell Link, shaking my head. Nayru, what have I done?

"Oh, Zelda," he sighs, rubbing my back.

I say, "The little girl wasn't upset or anything by it. She loved it; she got her fireflies." Link waits patiently. "It's just the mother…" I trail.

"You scared her," he fills in for me. I nod my head. "People fear what they do not understand," Link says while he scoots himself back to sit against the headboard. I pull the extra blanket lying at the foot of the bed and wrap myself up in it while I follow. Curling up next to Link, he continues to speak to me in soft tones and ruffles my hair. Eventually he rolls over and shuts off the light, but remains lying on his side. He doesn't even notice when I scoot closer and rest my head onto his back, in between where he should have shoulder blades, and close my eyes.

All I can hear apart from the echoes of his voice are the muffled spurring of gears and every now and then a smooth hiss from the hydraulics. He speaks and moves as if he were human, but my ear to his back, I hear nothing familiar. No thump or bump of a beating heart. No whoosh of air filling lungs. No soft rumbling of vocal cords. I hear nothing. Nothing but the workings of a machine.

Eventually, my tears dry, and Link stops talking. I wait, lying awake and listening to the clicking and spurring until they cease, signifying that Link has turned off.

Then there's nothing at all. No sound. No sound at all, and I'm left with the images of the mother. The fury in her face and voice rips through me, and my fear starts to creep through me. What if somebody comes for me now? I've made a grave mistake, and there's no whoosh of air, no steady beat, no warmth from the mechanical man next to me to offer any comfort.

I curl up further in the blanket. My thoughts gnaw at me all throughout the night, and when the morning sun finally breaks is when I finally rise. I slip away as fast as I can, taking the room key with me.

Out in the lobby, I stop for a moment to ask the receptionist if there's a spring nearby. The girl's magazine flops down onto the desk, and she repeats, "A spring?" I nod. "Not that I know of." And the magazine flips back up, covering her face.

I roll my eyes and exit the inn. The early morning chill squeezes my bare skin. I breathe in deep the dew and the morning light. Autumn is on its way. I sigh. Link and I will have to buy some jackets and coats fit for the weather sometime soon.

My eyes scan the area around me, and I decide to follow the creek I was at the night before. It's probably the only logical place I have to start looking. People pass me by occasionally, not even offering me a second glance. Some have rounded ears, others have the long pointed Hylian ears. It makes no difference to these people, and I flit though more comfortable than ever in this quiet place.

My heels sink into the wet ground as I make my way down the green space back to the flowing water. I watch as the water gushes past me. The lazy current brings by debris of fallen leaves and the occasional twig, and I follow along upstream. I fold my arms and huddle into myself to keep in the warmth from the chill of the morning.

"Firefly!" I stop in my tracks. Frozen. I don't even want to turn around. But the name sounds again. I stand stalk still as the little girl from the night before bounds in front of me. She peers up at me while she adjusts her purple headband. The little wings of the butterfly on it flap one way and the other on coiled springs. "What's wrong?" she asks. "Are you cold?"

"Hello," I say quietly. "Agitha, right?"

The girl beams. "That's my name, Ms. Firefly!" she laughs and offers me a quick curtsey with her dress. Her pigtails bob.

"Are you out looking for more bugs?"

"I am!" she exclaims. "Bugs come out at all times of the day." She cocks her head to the side after she says this. "Are _you_ looking for bugs too?" Agitha asks me.

"Not today," I mumble, and I give a swift glance around me. The longer I talk to Agitha, the more my heart pounds. What if her mother shows up again? She's bound to remember me after my magic display.

"What then are you doing out so early?"

"I'm looking for a spring."

"A spring?"

I sigh. "Yes."

"You're going the wrong way then," she tells me.

I blink at her. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You're going to wrong way." She grins at me. Agitha raises a finger and points over my shoulder. I glance behind me. "There's a spring that way," she tells me. "There's an old dirt trail that runs out from by the town entrance. It goes through the woods. When it starts to get mossy, you have to leave the trail."

"It's off the trail?"

Agitha bobs her head. "Mm-hm! You just follow the moss," she says with confidence. "You'll eventually end up at the spring, but you have to crawl through a tunnel."

"A tunnel, huh?" I mumble to myself.

"There are bugs waiting to be found," Agitha tells me, "so I'll see you another time, Firefly!"

"Of course," I whisper, watching her pigtails swing as she runs away.

I look down at my dress and heels. Without much thought on it, I head back to the inn with hurried steps. Flying into our room, Link rests still on the bed and I pass him by to scoop up the soiled, borrowed clothes. I throw off my dress and kick off my shoes and hastily put Malon's clothes back on. The griminess of her clothes sinks in; they haven't had a good wash since Link and I were staying out by the lake. I shiver, knowing full well the second I get back, I'm going to strip myself and bathe.

Before leaving, I take one last look at Link on the bed. His shirt is bunched up at the waistband of his pants, and one of the clips from his suspenders has come loose. What will I say to him when I turn him on again? I shake my head. I'll deal with that when the time comes, and after I sort out his messed clothing.

It takes me awhile to find the path that little Agitha pointed out to me earlier. The foliage has gotten out of hand and the path rarely used these days by the looks of it. With a sigh, I set out down the path, dodging low tree branches and imposing bushes and roots. At some points, the woods have grown so out of control on the path, that there is almost no trail left to follow, and so I storm on blindly until it picks up again.

I mutter to myself reminders all the while. The moss. The moss. The moss. Follow the moss. It'd be a lot easier to be on the look out for moss if everything wasn't just so… green.

There's a little stab of guilt in my chest.

I stop trekking and close my eyes. All there is before me is the flickering of a lantern and the green, green, green tunic.

I breathe in deep. The soft scent of pine and dew wafts under my nose. There's a chorus of clicks from the insects, many, if not all, I am sure that dear little Agitha would simply love to meet.

She said look for moss.

I move forward. My eyes are peeled for any hint of moss. I almost pass it when I see it, and I backtrack a little. Just as the little girl said, there's a sort of off the beaten path trail of moss patches leading away from the dirt path I stand on. I send Nayru a quick prayer that I'll find my way back and out of these woods and step off the path.

Following the moss as Agitha told me proves to be a little more challenging as I crawl over fallen trees and large rocks. I duck under wild bushes and thorned plants, and I manage a few scrapes here and there. As I feel the sting of a fresh slice across my cheek, I thank my foresight into changing back into Malon's denim overalls, work shirt and boots; I can't imagine trying to make my way through the dense woods in a dress and heels.

I'm a little astounded, though, that sweet little Agitha would venture this far into the woods, but I suppose if there was a certain insect she was after, nothing would stall her.

After what seems to be an eternity, it looks as though I've come to the end of the moss trail. The moss covers a large rock formation that stretches as far as I can see either way. What was next? A tunnel? I stand stupidly in the middle of the greenery, looking all around me like something will pop out. I look back at the rock. If it's a tunnel, would it be somewhere on the rock? Suddenly, I feel the stirrings of the leathery wings within me. I pause, my hand still raised to reach out to the rock, and I search and grapple within for some sort reason for the warning wings to go off.

But the wings don't even flutter. It's silent within me. "You warn me of danger," I mutter to myself, "so are you now giving me confirmations?"

There's a little flutter, and a harsh choke of laughter rings through the woods around me.

"Wasn't expecting that," I mumble, and I begin to feel around the base of the rock. Every now and then the plants nick me a little more until I find the tunnel. I grab a small branch and crouch down, swinging the branch in front of me as I begin to crawl through. The tunnel isn't very long, and I soon come out to a small pool of water much like what I'd seen up at the lake.

Clambering back up to my feet, I look around. The whole spring is closed in by the rock and covered by the dense trees. It's no wonder that few would know about such a place. I pull off Malon's boots and roll up the legs of the overalls. The moment my feet hit the water, I feel a cool breeze pick up.

From the wind blows smatterings of gold dust. The further towards the center of the spring I go, the more the dust begins to solidify. It thunders around me in a circle, powerful hooves only daintily touching the surface of the water. It slides to a stop in front of me, and the massive golden goat before me, bows its head. The light spirit's oval horn has been broken in one spot, cracking it in two. The goat pads the water with its hooves as it peers down at me.

"I've been expecting you since your visit with Lanayru," it says. "I am Ordona."

"You get right to business, don't you?" I say.

A soft, musical measure of laughter drifts over the spring. "We may talk after your journey," it tells me, and then leans forward. I stiffen as the light spirit comes towards me. Its massive nose bumps my forehead.

…

My eyes flutter open.

He scowls at her. "I said 'no'," he reiterates, but she only smiles slyly at him, violet-blue eyes glinting with mischief. He moves away from her and tromps down the dirt path. Small puffs of dust fluff up from under the soles of his boots. Birds chatter from up in the tall, ancient trees. The old woods breathe deep with life, the wind acting as its passing breath. The leaves rustle with the steady flow of breath. Sun spots break through the trees' canopy.

I hurry after Link, skipping down the winding trail after him, the memory of the female knight and the forest behind us fading away. He moves swiftly through the woods, avoiding gnarled roots with expertise. The chainmail under his green tunic and the equipment on his back clink away as he storms through the foliage. Link's head constantly swivels around, taking in his surroundings. From a small pack on his hip, he pulls out a worn piece of parchment and stops to study it after he unfolds it. Quickening my pace, I catch up to him to see that the parchment is the crude beginnings of a map for the forest.

Link scratches at the back of his neck with one hand.

Sighing, he refolds the map, but does not put it away as he moves off of the beaten path. I follow him easily through the woods. He navigates it with ease, only occasionally referencing the map in his hands. I've no idea how much time has passed during the trek, as the canopy hides the moving sun, but Link finally stops.

He collapses onto a log and lets the map flutter out of his hand and onto the ground, leaning forward on his knees. He runs his hands through his unruly blond hair for a minute as he mulls over his thoughts. Finally, he straightens up, and from the same pouch he'd kept the map in pulls out a small bundle of cloth. Bread and some cheese have been kept wrapped, and he bites into his meager meal like he hasn't eaten in days. A strange ghost company, I sit down on the log beside him as he takes a swig from the canteen on his belt. Even after his rations have been devoured, Link still sits on the log.

He rubs the back of his neck. Then he leans down and plucks the map from the forest floor. He shakes it out, a stray caterpillar falling out and opens it again. A bird caws in the distance. At the sound, Link freezes. There's a slight twitch to his ear when the tree tops rustle in the wind. The map in his still raised hand flaps a little in the slight breeze on the forest floor.

"Shit," Link breathes.

He bolts up and darts over to a large tree while he bites down onto the map. The map secure between his teeth, Link scrambles up the tree. I hear his quiet curses at every misstep. Link continues to climb further up into the canopy when the woods begin to shift around us. I glance up at the young knight in green, his back turned to me. He scans the woods, looking out for whatever he'd sensed on the floor of the woods. Links head whips this way and that, his blond bangs flying with him. The few minutes of silence in the woods stretches out long and thin like hot taffy. He relaxes slightly up in the tree tops, but I can tell caution wins out. He stops his constant searching and faces forward. Every now and then, I can see how his ears twitch as his hearing strains to pick out sounds through the forest's natural chatter.

A bird that chattered in the distance suddenly stops.

I watch as Link gives a quick look over his shoulder for the first time minutes and when he does, right next me a flurry of dark matter kicks up. Long hairy legs scamper forward, and pinchers snap while lime green ooze drips off of it. A bulbous, hairy body swings with each step.

The more Link scans the forest, the more the giant arachnids begin to materialize. Gooseflesh scatters all over my body when one passes through me. Are these the fabled skulltula? Or are these something else?

I look up again, and Link's face has paled considerably at the sight of the hoard of spiders. He follows their direction, hastily turning the map in his hand upright. The monsters storm across the woods' lush grounds. Link focuses on the map in his hand, his other bracing the trunk of the tree next to him. The world around me starts to bend and blur, the spiders mere blobs of dark color, a goopy wave in through the green and brown.

Then the world snaps back and Link whips around, taking everything around him in. He waits and waits and waits, even after the last monster has pounded past until the woods takes on a glowing hue. He sighs up in the trees, and then slowly scoots down the tree. Pausing only to absorb the shock when his feet make impact with the dirt, the young knight bolts off through the forest at a break neck pace. I rush after him as fast I can, barely keeping his green clothing in sight within the woods. I glance only once over my shoulder in the race to escape the forest, only to see a world of white closing in behind us.

Link stumbles a little, but he quickly regains his footing and shoots out onto a weathered dirt path. I stumble out after him and take off down the path. The narrow road narrows even more to a rope and plank bridge over a large chasm. Ever fearless, Link storms across the bridge, and I hesitate at seeing the way it rocks and bends under his pounding feet. If I fall in this memory, what happens to me? I shake my head. I suck in a deep breath to gather myself and my courage before heading down the bridge, the wood under my feet making not a sound.

I pass by a small house as I hurry to catch up to Link, who has luckily been stalled by a small group of children. "Not now," he says sharply, and they recoil a little bit. "I need to get to the duke." They move out of the way when they see he's willing to plow them over in his haste, and I rush past them as well.

Link flies through the village. Some of the villagers raise their hands up or shout a greeting to the knight, but he does not respond, his destination the only thing on his mind. The clucking of cuckoo patters through the town, an occasional caw crying out. We wind past a small ranch of goats and newly plowed, large fields. A manor sat not far off from the fields, the forest shielding its back. Link runs down the road to the manor, catching the attention of a young servant girl.

She straightens up, and I notice then that the dress under the apron she wipes her hands on is a marbled mess of color. I wrinkle my nose at the sight of her face, or lack thereof. There's nothing there but a blotch of peachy skin.

"The duke!" Link cries as he approaches. "I need to see the duke."

The girl, sensing the knight's urgency, quickly ushers him inside, and I slip into the manor with them. She leads him into a small receiving room, where a portly man nearing middle age sits at a table. His moustache twitches as he thinks over his options, a hand of cards in front of him. His opponent, the female knight, has a sly smile donning her face, unable to hold in her building triumph. Panting, Link trails in behind the girl, and the man and knight look up at the newcomers.

"Your Grace," the young maid says, and she dips into a low and quick curtsey before leaving.

"Ah, Sir Link," the man greets warmly. A smile is on his lips, and despite his coming defeat in the card game, still has some good humor in his eyes. "The lady here was telling me you were to be out exploring today."

"Link, what's wrong?"

"Gohma," he breathes, plopping himself in an arm chair. "Lots of them."

"What're you talking about?" the duke demands.

Link doesn't respond right away, choosing instead to steady his breathing. "There's a whole clutter of them," Link tells them. "They charged past me in the woods."

The female knight frowns and her brows needle together. She drops her hand of cards, the game forgotten. "Where were they headed?" she asks.

"Southeast."

The duke clears his throat. "Will you bring me my messenger?" he asks the female knight. "We'll alert the King's Horos."

The female knight nods, and she rises from her chair. She claps Link on his shoulder as he wearily closes his eyes. The room blinks once around me, twice.

And then there's nothing more but the black.

I jolt a little at the snicker of a horse. I turn to see a large mare try to bite a poor stable boy, and he yelps as he flies out of the way. "Hey! Quit that!" Link says from the stall, giving the horse a quick tug on the bridle, but the horse only seems to laugh at him. He's wearing the orange tunic again with his red hose and shirt, the pages' uniform. His face is rounder, much more boyish than the last time I'd seen him as a page. I can tell that he's much shorter than before as well. He huffs in frustration as he fiddles with the saddle and then slaps the horse's ribs. The mare jumps a little at the sudden hit, but then continues to tease the young page. Link groans again, letting go of the saddle straps in his hands.

"You need to hurry up or you'll end up giving us all punishment work," a light voice calls out.

"She keeps puffing herself out," he grumbles, as the female page walks up to the stall. He motions at the large rusty mare. "I can't get the saddle on properly." The horse snickers again, as if the mare is following the conversation, and shakes out her short, white mane. The mare then sticks her head out for the female page. The girl rubs the horse's nose as Link says, "I swear, she's trying to get me to fall off."

The female page says nothing and continues to rub the horse's nose, and the mare finally closes her eyes. The girl mouths to Link, "Now." He swiftly slaps the mare's side again, this time effectively startling the mare, and gives a triumphant shout of success.

"Got it!" he whoops, and the horse snorts in her defeat.

Leaning against the stall door, the female page says, "You know, you could trade her in for another horse if she's this much trouble." Her hand darts out and snaps the reins away when the horse tries once more to take a bite out of the passing stable boy, whose face pales considerably he runs past the stall.

"Nah," says Link. "Epona's trouble, but I like her. She's a lot smarter than the other horses too."

"She's really big for you though."

"I like her," he says again. "Maybe one day we can come to an understanding."

"I'm not holding my breath," the blonde says, and the mare blows a sharp gust from her nose into the page's face. The page sneers at Link's horse, saying, "Maybe you're a little _too_ smart." The horse nickers back, and the page giggles a little, giving the mare, Epona, one last pat on the nose.

"Hurry it up now," she reminds Link as she goes to pull her own horse out from the stall.

Link calls back, "Coming!" He opens the stall door, and taking the reins leads his mischievous mare out of her stall. Link roots one foot in the stirrup and then swings himself up onto the mare's back. Although, watching it, I'm a little baffled he manages to do it with success with his horse moving this way and that. Up in the saddle though, he leans over, grinning, and gives the mare a pat on the neck. "Nice try," he says to the mare, who snorts back.

He gives the horse a slight kick with his heels in the stirrups, and the horse merely stands still. Link sighs from atop the horse. "Oh come on, please?" he begs. The mare flicks her tail. "I'll see to it that you get a sugar cube later," he bribes. The stubborn mare's ears twitch at this, and, after a moment of debate, strides out of the stables.

Outside, I follow Link and the mare as they move to line up with the other pages in a practice area. There's an argument brewing as one page passes up a lance to Link, and he takes. Link asks the other page, "What's going on?" as he looks out to where the female page and her mount stand throwing rebuttals back at another page.

"The girl's at it again," is all he says with a shrug.

Link frowns and steers his mare over to his friend. I look on as the boy spits out at the female page, "You know, some women become wives while others are nothing more than mistresses."

"Better then that I am of a third category. I will be neither wife nor mistress," she replies vehemently, "which is a much better option. At least this way I won't have worry about what ills a husband like you would bring home to me from a whorehouse." At this, the group of pages watching the argument begins to snicker, and the boy's face flushes with rage at the insult. I can feel a wave of disturbance course through me as I notice a number of the boys are just like the servant from the previous memory. No face at all.

The female sniffs haughtily at the boy, and then turns to Link. "Nice weather, don't you think?"

"Fresh like spring flowers," he chirps, turning Epona away from the scene. With one flick of the mare's tail and Link looking behind him and grinning at his friend, the memory dissolves.

A swirl of color bursts forth from the white nothingness. The negative space fills in with long tables, candles, food and laughter. I look around me, and I see that I stand in a grand hall. Servants hurry to and from side doors, carrying in platters of food to the more finely dressed people seated at the tables. At one table, I see Link, an older version than the previous one. He's dressed in what seems to be his signature green tunic sans chainmail. Next to him is his brother, Sir Raven. Sir Raven leans in and mutter something in Link's ear, and grins stretch across both of their faces. Their goblet clang against each other in toast, and the brothers down their drinks.

Link laughs at another one of his brother's jokes, and I take a seat at the table. I follow Link's gaze as it lands on a woman further down the table and the world seems to narrow in on her. Her mouth is stretched into a thin line as she holds Link's eyes. The short spell is only broken when she turns away to answer a man seated next to her.

Sir Raven slams his drink down in distaste. "Looks like we're in for a meeting later."

"What for?" Link asks, and Sir Raven motions for a servant to refill their cups.

Sir Raven nods over past Link, who takes a quick glance in the direction. "She's been watching you all night," he says after the servant leaves, their cups filled once more.

"Has she?" Link asks, cutting into the meat cut on his plate. "Hadn't even noticed."

"Bullocks, Brother."

"Hadn't noticed," repeats Link.

Sir Raven shakes his head. "Trust me, everyone sees it," the elder brother says, taking another sip of his drink. "You two have been dancing around each other since you were squires, if not longer."

"Now that's a bunch of bull."

The elder brother lets out a deep, throaty laugh. "Your denial is fairly endearing."

Link scowls and rips at the meat cut.

Link's brother nudges him. "I believe that the meat's already quite dead, Brother. Quit it and shape up," he instructs. "It looks as though she's finished."

The younger one quits his frustrated sawing and only offers the briefest of glances over my shoulder. He turns to the elder one. "Whatever happens, you'll back me up, right?"

Sir Raven looks over at his little brother, a blond eyebrow raised. He focuses back on his food and replies, "So long as it's nothing mad."

"As if being mere pawns isn't," Link scoffs.

The brothers both shape up, straightening their postures and scooting away from each other when a young woman approaches. "May I sit?" the female knight asks, and the brothers both choke a little on their food and motion for her to do so. She smiles at them and takes a seat across from the brothers next to me. As she straightens her wine colored skirts of her gown, rather than the blue knight's tunic I'd seen her in before, the brothers exchange a glance, both smirking and trying to hold their laughter in at their inappropriate greeting.

Only when a servant has come and offered her wine and whisked himself away, does the woman speak again. "How are you two?" the woman asks. "It's been quite a while since all of us have been back at court."

"I've forgotten how rich the food is," Raven says.

The brothers look down the table.

Raven straightens, and the elder knight excuses himself. "It looks as though I'm being called away, milady," Sir Raven says to the female knight.

"Of course. Have a good eve, Sir Raven."

With Raven gone from their section of the table. Link glances awkwardly between the lady knight across from him, whose eyebrow is cocked in bemusement and goblet in hand, and down the table where, even while conversing with Sir Raven, the older, thin lipped woman glares back. Shifting in his seat, Link just shovels more food in his mouth.

"You can't avoid talking to me forever, Sir Link," the lady knight teases.

Link swallows. "Just trying to avoid digging myself an early grave, milady."

At this, the young woman's eyes slide down to the glaring woman. "Oh," she says softly. "I see what you mean."

Looking back at Link, she sighs. "Are you at least enjoying your time at court?"

"I'd much rather be back in the field."

Her lips curl into a dreamy smile. "So would I," she admits. "It's so stuffy here."

"Milady," Link says, pushing his plate away. "I think it's best you leave me before they truly have something to pounce on me for."

"I believe you're right," she says. "But truly, I'd much prefer your company; you're much better at poetry than Richard Percy."

"I don't write poetry," Link says.

She shrugs. "Exactly. You know when you're a lost cause," she says with a smirk. Link's mouth bobs for a retort, but she plows through. "He really is terrible in all honesty," she laughs. "So next time he comes to read to me his latest dedication, how about a game of cards? Or we could gamble instead over some other sport?"

Link chuckles, looking down at his hands in his lap. "Always at the ready for your rescue, milady."

"_That's_ exactly what I'd like to hear." With that, she rises up and brushes her skirts. She offers Link a curt nod and floats away to speak with other nobles of the court.

Link lets out a low, ragged breath and squeezes his eyes shut. The whole room shuts down to black, but the gay chatter continues. The soft strumming of a lute and sweet song drifts through the black. "Link." And just like that, the room is back. Link turns and the older woman is right behind him. "Let's go."

Link sighs and rises. He trudges behind the woman, his apprehension clear on his face, as they leave the dining hall. The woman walks briskly. There is purpose and arrogance in her stride. Her skirts swish about her ankles and feet as she plows through the corridors. I hurry along behind them, ever the ghost. She shows Link into one room, closes and locks the door, and then leads him into another adjoining room. The door is slammed shut and the lock clicked.

In the center of the room is a lone chair in front of a table of three men.

Link lets out a shaky breath. Whatever is said or done in this room is not meant to leave. Knowing this, Link takes a few hesitant steps forward as he glances around the room at the dozen other nobles, his brother among them. One of the men sitting at the table in front of the chair commands, "Sit." It's only then that Link shuffles and seats himself in the center of the room.

Link gives a nervous glance over to his brother. Sir Raven only looks stonily on at the scene.

"What'd she say?" the man asks.

"Not much," Link says.

The man sighs. "Link. This is no time for games."

"I'm not playing games."

The man slams his hand down on the table. "You will tell us what she said."

"She asked me how I liked it at court so far," Link says, regaining his air of nonchalance. He shrugs. "She agreed with me when I said that I'd much rather be out in the field."

"What was she laughing about?"

"She was joking that Richard Percy is blatantly terrible at courtly love."

The woman that had lead Link into the room speaks up next. "What about Richard Percy?"

"He's quite a horrible poet, apparently."

"That's it?" the man asks.

Link shrugs again. "That's it."

"She mentioned nothing about Calatia?"

"I don't see why she should."

"Nothing about the young prince?"

"Nope."

There seems to be a collective sigh of relief around the room. "There's still time then," the man says.

At this Sir Raven interrupts, saying, "Uncle, Link's said before that she seemed indifferent to marrying either prince."

"She's not interested in marriage at all," Link retorts hotly.

"Whether she's interested or not doesn't matter," the brothers' uncle responds. "There will be somebody pushing for her to marry, and we need to position ourselves right in that path when the time comes."

The woman injects, "We should continue to let Link do as he pleases. He seems to have an innate knack for holding her."

"I don't want to," Link says meekly, any confidence he had before is gone.

The nobles roll right over Link's statement and continue to plot. "Raven," the uncle says, "keep an eye on Link until the summer progress begins. See to it that he does not stray."

"Of course."

Link looks over in total disbelief at his brother.

"Continue to be his bedfellow so that he won't… wander."

"Yes, Uncle."

"You're dismissed."

Despite the command, Link continues to sit dumbly in the chair until Sir Raven grabs him by the arm and yanks him up. They're let out of the room with another one of the nobles, and I slip out with them. The door slams closed, and then the other noble lets them out into the corridor. The lock clicks behind us.

"Come on, Brother," Sir Raven says, still holding onto Link's arm. Link regains himself and wrenches his arm away. Neither says anything and, slowly, they make their way through the dim corridors, me still trailing along.

When we reach their chambers, Link allows his elder brother to enter first. He pauses outside their door, looking around for a sign of anybody else lurking around the corridor. Seeing no one, Link sucks in a few deep breathes, then strides into the room. He slams the door closed before flying at the older brother. Caught off guard, Link gets his forearm on Raven's neck and the two slam into the wall.

"What the hell was that!" Link roars.

"What're you talking about?" his brother grunts.

Link seizes up a little more, putting more pressure on his brother's throat. "You said you'd back me."

"I'd said I'd do it if it wasn't mad."

"As if this family's ambition isn't mad?"

"Are you going to attack your own mother as well?" Sir Raven sneers. "I believe I heard her throw you under as well."

"I don't trust our mother," Link growls.

Raven snorts. "Obviously.

"Have you ever stopped to even think about it?"

"I don't have to. I don't want to marry and neither does she."

Raven rolls his eyes and drawls, "Oh, so you're one of those who won't bother to improve upon something. Ever in favor for mediocrity."

"I don't need to fix something that isn't broken."

"She'd make an exception," Raven says, "for you."

"She doesn't want to marry," Link repeats.

Sir Raven barks with laughter. "Maybe not _now_, but I assure you when her clock starts to really tick, she'll be more than happy to turn to you. Don't you ever think about what it would be like if your son sat on the cushion of the throne?"

"She won't marry."

The elder brother glosses over Link's statement. "I've seen you two, with your little puppy eyes, just so enamored. And by Din, does she ever lay on the pet names for you!"

Link doesn't reply. The two brothers hold each other's cold glare, not daring to make the first move. Nothing but the strained, shuttering of their breaths fills the room until Raven speaks again. "Take your arm off me," he says.

"No."

"Fine then," Raven says lowly. He quickly overpowers Link, throwing the younger knight off of him and into the side of the bed. Link lets out a snarl and launches himself at Sir Raven. Link tackles his brother to the ground and gets in one solid punch to Raven's face before he's thrown aside again. Link recovers quickly, grabbing a glass carafe from the bedside and flinging it at Raven's head. The elder knight ducks and grapples Link's midsection, pushing him back. Link is able to beat his brother off of him and the two exchange a few more blows before the older brother slams Link into the wall.

…

I give an involuntary jerk as the world reverts back to the spring. Water laps at my skin as I lie face up in the shallow spring. I push myself up onto my elbows and look around for the spirit. "Hello?" I call out. "Ordona?" In answer, a swirling cloud of gold circles around me as it morphs back into the giant goat guardian. It nods its head at me. "Will you answer me?" I ask it.

Ordona lowers its head one more time. "But not all." Of course. It must be the style to withhold information.

I say, "Tell me, then, why were things blurred or colors mixed up?"

"What you see, child, is a mere memory," the spirit says. It scrapes one hoof across the surface of the water, sending a ripple of gold through the waves. "It is only limited to what the owner, your friend in your case, has seen. It is also limited to only what the mind has the capacity to remember in detail."

"I see," I sigh.

I ask, "How is it that you and the spirit Lanayru were able to receive his memories?"

"Your friend sought our help after the incident which has left him in his current state," the goat explains.

"That doesn't really tell me the how," I say. I close my eyes, groan and flop back into the water when the goat makes no sign of responding further. "Not supposed to know that, huh?"

"As of right now, I am not in the position to offer that information."

"Who is?"

The golden goat moves towards me, but there is no response once again.

"I suppose I'll have to go worm what I want to know out of him then, huh?"

"If that is what you choose to do, then you may," Ordona says. "Feel free to return here at your leisure, child." The goat spirit leans its large head down. It kisses my forehead before leaping away, bursting into a cloud of gold dust.

…

Link's eyes click and clack as they flutter open. He looks at me freshly bathed and dressed in a clean dress. He pushes himself up from the bed and looks around the room. "What time is it, love?" he asks.

"Almost seven."

He frowns and looks out the window as I crawl over him and settle myself up against the headboard. "Seven?" he repeats. "It's too bright."

"Seven in the evening."

His head swivels over to me. "What're you talking about?"

"It's almost nightfall."

Link blinks and then turns his head back to the window. He asks when he looks back at me, "Why didn't you turn me on sooner?"

"I slept most of the day," I lie, but I can't tell if he buys this or not.

"Hey Link."

"Hm?"

"Were you… were you and your brother close at all?"

Link falls back against the headboard next to me. "Sometimes I think we were."

"What do you mean?"

"My brother was much older than me, and he was considered a seasoned knight by the time I even became a page. I'd always looked up to him; it's one reason why I'd chosen knighthood."

"So what changed?"

Link rubs at the back of his neck. "Court life." He shakes his head. "Living at court is like swimming with sharks, my dear. After I'd gotten my shield, I went out into the field on an assignment while the court went on progress. I came back to court like many knights in the fall. By winter, I learned that nobody could be trusted, my own brother included." The image of Link sitting the center of a room, surrounded by a family filled with nothing but ambition flows through my mind's eye.

I say, "What's the problem with finding somebody to trust?"

"In court, the noble families would vie for the favor of the royal families. Gaining favor could mean getting land, titles, money or some other extravagant gifts." Link lets out a low chortle of laughter. "That sometimes included a royal bastard, but…" Link trails off and flips his hand in the air. "My family saw my close friendship with the crown princess as means to seat themselves on the throne."

"You were close to the princess?"

"She was actually the only one I trusted when at court," Link says. "We'd been friends since we were pages."

"She was a page too?"

"Oh yes! That girl was the biggest tomboy. Most princes would go through the training for knighthood, and she wanted the same, so she pushed her father into allowing her to become a page. There was nothing by law against that, it was just…"

"Tradition?" I offer.

"Yeah," Link assents with a nod. "She was one of the first female pages, and after getting her shield, more young girls wanted to go down that path."

"She proved it could be done."

"Exactly."

Curiosity bites me. "So then what happened with her and your family?"

"They wanted to put me in a position where she would marry me," he tells me. "She was never interested in such a thing though."

"Why's that?"

"I think she might have felt that it would tie her up, and she wanted to be as free as she could be. A wife was bound to her husband, and with her position of power, she knew that she would lose that if she married." A logical way to think about it. Sensible, even. Link's statement of not trusting anybody at court comes back to me, and I feel a surge of admiration for the crown princess of Link's time.

"Wouldn't there be somebody, like her father, that would make her though?"

"She almost had to once… well twice, I suppose."

I pat his arm. "Tell me!"

Link snickers a little at me. "A marriage was arranged for her not long before she became a page to one of the Calatian princes. The contract, however, became null and void when he contracted the sweats when we were squires. He died within the month of catching it.

"After that, it was my uncle who was sent to try and renegotiate another contract with Calatia. The princess begged her father not to go through with it, but tensions were already high."

"They were to be married then to ensure peace would remain."

"Mm-hm."

"Did your uncle botch the negotiations?"

"On purpose."

"That must not have gone over well back at home."

Link shrugs. "I honestly can't say what the repercussions were, but in the end the princess got out of having to marry, and my uncle and my family still held a lot of favor at court."

"What happened to the throne then?"

"Oh… she was the last monarch in the House of Harkinian. Having never married, there's no legitimate heir to follow her."

"I see."

"Why're you so interested in all that dusty old history of mine all of a sudden?"

"Is there something wrong with wanting to know something about my companion?"

Link laughs. It's scratchy and synthetic, nothing like the full, gay tones I'd heard when he was dining with his brother. "I suppose," Link says, "but you never say much about yourself."

"My life seems pretty mundane compared to a coin-operated doll who's existed for centuries," I retort.

"I'll give you that," Link chuckles.

"So love," Link says, nudging me.

"What?"

"Did you nap in a thorn bush?"

* * *

><p>Got my internet back. Finally. Guys. GUYS. Srsly. I forgot how frustrating it was to only have internet on my phone. It sucks.<p>

Anyway. I'm excited. Know why? MY CAR IS ALMOST PAID OFF. Like I owe something like five hundred dollars. I'm so stoked. Everyone's asking me what I want for Christmas, and I'm just like, "My car paid off." But I'm also considering a new drain plug for my oil pan. I sound old. Haha.

I've been working on an old story that I'd started ages ago, and putting new life into it and trying to complete the cannibal story. But I'm finding myself stuck now in _Zombie Cake_. I was getting close to finishing the chapter, and I realized a good chunk of the chapter just didn't belong.

I know. I know.

:I


	9. Kings and Queens All Knock on His Door

Coin-Operated

9.0

Kings and Queens All Knock on His Door

"Psst!" Link stops. I hear him sigh wearily, and he turns on the path and looks around. The gardens are lush, even in the little moonlight. The chill of early spring hangs in the air while the budding flowers try to spring forth from their plots and grow anew for the season. Vines have already sprung, strong and wild, curling up the walls. In the gardens, however, surrounded by the stone of the castle walls, no one else is out and about wandering around under the stars. "Link!" the voice calls again, and this time, Link looks up. His lips twitch into a slight frown, and his brow deepens as if to say, "Really?"

"What?" he calls back, trying to be heard but also trying to keep his voice hushed.

The lady knight hangs over a balcony above, bemused by Link. A muffled voice sounds behind her, and she straightens up. She motions for Link to stay put where he is on the path before rushing back into the castle, and he grumbles to himself, putting his fists on his hips as he looks down at his feet. A little stone sits in his path, and he kicks it away idly until the princess calls for him again.

"What do you want?" he groans.

"What're you doing?"

Link looks one way, then the next. Still no sign of another person around. "I'm walking," he tells her. "Or at least I'm trying to."

"That's stupid," she chides, picking at the elegant hood on her head. "Come up and play a game with me. I just sent the maid away."

"It's late," Link says. "I'm going to finish my walk and go to bed. My brother is expecting me."

"What if I order you?"

Link rolls his eyes. "Look, Zelda," he sighs. "I'd like to keep my head on my shoulders, and breathing is a very important pastime of mine as well."

A cheshire grin spreads across the princess' face. "Hold on."

"Zelda-!" is all he gets out before she hurries away. Link's hands fall limply to his side, slapping his thighs. He gives another look disbelieving around him to make sure the gardens are empty, but nothing comes to creep through the night.

The princess flies back out onto the balcony, the rich skirts of her amethyst gown flowing with her. When Link protests further and states that he's going to retire, she calls out for him again. He ignores the crown princess, looking quite crossed at this point, and for a moment, I have to admire Link's guts. Link turns around and begins to march away from the princess when she yells out, "Hey Link!"

He turns around, his mouth open and ready to spit a retort back at the lady knight on the balcony. "Wha-!" He yelps, and his hands fly to his face. "Zelda! What the hell?" he cries. He looks incredulously at the object at the ground, and he bends down and picks it up. "What-? You threw your gauntlet at me?" he shouts, no longer caring to watch his voice.

"Oops," the strawberry blonde lady teases. "I must have dropped that." She cracks him a mischievous smile, her chin in one hand and the other arm and hand draping over the rail of the balcony. Even in the dim light of the moon, the spark in her eyes flashes through as clear as crystal.

Link's fingers twitch as he holds his hands up. He bellows at her, "You're stark, raving mad, woman!"

"What? Scared of a challenge?" she taunts. The smile never leaves her face but only grows wider the more worked up she gets the young knight in green.

Link points a finger at her, the gauntlet gripped in his hand. "Lady, throwing down the gauntlet is supposed to be a mere figure of speech!"

"Oh dear. My mistake. I suppose we'll have to duel over it now."

Clanking sounds through the gardens, and Link slams down the gauntlet and curses, running a hand through his messy locks. "Your Highness! Are you well?" one guard calls out as small group of patrolmen come into view.

"Perfectly well, thank you," the young princess calls back, the mischievous smile transforming to one of polite courtesy. "I just dropped my gauntlet on accident, and Sir Link here was kind enough to offer to bring it back to me. Isn't that right, Sir?"

Link fumbles for a few seconds as he looks between the lady and the guard, earning himself a few suspicious looks before confirming the princess' words. "Yes, Her Royal Highness lost her gauntlet over the balcony," he mumbles to the patrol.

The guard casts Link one last glance before turning back to the princess. "If you do not require further assistance…"

"I'm fine, thank you," she says with a regal smile.

The patrol nod in unison, charmed by the woman, and then they disperse back to their posts within the gardens. As the clanking drowns out with the sounds of the night, the princess leans again on the balcony. This time, the smile on her face is all smug. Link stoops and picks up the "dropped" gauntlet and turns away, all the while grumbling under his breath. "Where are you going?" the noblewoman asks, and Link stops.

"Bringing you the gauntlet that you threw at my face."

"Just climb the vines, fool." And she motions with her hand at the plants that weave and wrap up the walls and balcony. Link looks between her and the vines, and then back to the princess.

He says, "You're mad."

"You're mad."

Link's eyes shift around the gardens, and the princess tells him, "I don't see anyone, if that's what you keep looking around for."

"Did you not see how fast those guards stormed over here?"

"That's only because you opened your big, stupid mouth," the princess retorts.

Link stuffs the gauntlet into the shirt of his tunic and grapples onto the vines. "You're uncouth," he spits. "Aren't you supposed to be Her Royal Highness, the ever regal Princess of Hyrule?" He slips a little on the vines, but regains his footing, and Link continues his way on up the wall of the castle. I follow him up the wall, having a significantly harder time doing so. By the time Link has himself hanging off of the balcony, I'm only halfway up.

"Oh shush, love," the princess says, and she leans over and grabs onto Link. She helps him up over the balcony ledge, and he just allows himself to fall onto the stone beneath the princess' feet. She cocks her head to one side and nudges him with her foot.

They continue to speak to one another in hushed voices as I pull myself up little by little. I silently curse them both for not just having Link take the stairs or something. I take a brief look around and see that only the sky above, the balcony and the princess are in focus. Everything else is blurred like I've suddenly become nearsighted and am in need of spectacles. I lean over, silently praying that I won't fall, and take hold of the vines weaving through the balustrades of the balcony. Just as soon as I finally get myself thrown over onto the balcony as Link had done, I see him sit up.

Link fishes in his shirt and produces the gauntlet. He holds it out for the princess and she takes it from him. "Come on then," she says, and gestures him inside. He crawls up to his feet and slips inside. I scurry after him. The princess closes the door to the balcony after tossing the gauntlet aside on the bed. A warm fire crackles in the hearth across the room next to a writing desk and table. Expensive tapestries and rugs cover the bedchamber and are plush under my feet. The princess pulls the drapes closed, blocking all views to the gardens, and she takes a candle from the bedside and lights it in the hearth.

Link stands awkwardly by the balcony door. The lady puts the candle down on the round table, saying, "Well, don't just stand there, dear, are you hungry at all? I had sent for a snack earlier."

"A little," he admits.

She waves him over. "I keep wine in the armoire," she tells him and she brings over a tray that sat on the writing desk. "It turns out to be a perfect hiding spot." The lady places the tray of bread and cheese on the table, and pulls out a chair and sits down while Link fumbles around in the armoire. He pours her a glass while she removes her hood and hands it to her before pouring a glass for himself. Her strawberry hair tumbles down and around her shoulders, and with one hand shakes it out, the other holding the wine. The princess settles herself and looks at the wine in the glass and says, "I like white wine."

She snorts with laughter when Link's face hardens. "It's a joke, silly." But Link does not relent, and he whips the chair out and plops himself down onto it. "Honestly, love, you need a little humor in your life. You'll end up with all these grumpy lines on your face in five years otherwise.

"So, how about some rummy?" she asks, pulling from the pocket of her gown a pack of cards. She undoes the twine that holds the cards together and begins to shuffle the deck.

"How is your mother?" Her hands fold under and the cards bridge.

Link says, "She's well enough."

"Well enough?" One blonde eyebrow rises up.

Link shrugs, watching as the cards mash together. "She's not too happy with me at the moment. She thinks I've botched the whole thing with you, but…" He puts on elbow on the table, and rests his chin on his palm.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Link?"

"No thank you," he mumbles into his palm and fingers.

"Link."

"Hm."

"Link."

A sigh. "Yes?"

"It's bad manners to have your elbows on the table," she says, the teasing tone worming its way back into her voice. Link gives her another quick eye roll, but complies, pulling himself off of the table. Both of them have the smallest hints of smirks on their lips. "Have something to eat. You're hungry, right?" The cards flip from her hands, sliding across the table or landing in front of her as she deals their hands. The deck slaps onto the table and she flips the top card over.

"You first," she says as Link chomps down on a slice of the bread.

I look on as the silent scorekeeper as they play through a few hands, all the while trudging through the food and drink. The longer they play, the looser they both become. They joke about the court, Richard Percy's awful attempts at poetry being a popular topic. Plans for the summer progress crop up every now and then in their conversation as well.

Eventually in one of the final hands, the princess traps Link like a cat a mouse. She smirks at him, her cheeks rosy as Link's brow needles and his rubs the back of his neck. His eyes flick from the cards in his hand, to the cards laid out on the table, to the deck, to the princess' triumphant smile. His cheeks are tinged, and not from defeat or embarrassment, and he sighs and throws down his cards.

"You're not even going to play."

"You'd slaughter me the next move anyhow.

"I think I should be going though," Link says with a yawn. "My brother's probably wondering where I've gone off to."

She laughs and gathers up the cards. It tinkles in the air, and I see the slight curve of Link's mouth fighting to rise up. The cards are tied up once more, but she leaves them sitting on the table. Link pushes himself out from the table and corks the wine bottle. He goes and stashes the bottle back in the armoire and moves to go to the balcony.

"Can you help me before you go?"

"Wha-what?"

The princess giggles a little. "I need help," she repeats.

Link stammers a little. "Shouldn't you get somebody else…?"

"Just help me out of this, Link."

He flushes a little more and grumbles, "Fine," to which she just laughs. She spins around, kicking off her silk slippers. With Link's help, the sleeves of her gown come off and then the bodice as well. She slips off the outer skirts, leaving her in petticoats, and Link begins to try and untie the knot in her corset. "No wonder you need help," he mumbles as he picks at the knot. "I never knew lacing could be forged together." The princess shakes with laughter. "Got it."

"I'm sorry," she breathes. Link pauses for a moment and looks up from the corset lacing. "I am."

"About what?"

"Your family. I know what it is they want, and I feel terrible tearing you with their ambition."

Link shrugs, and he goes back to picking at the tight lacing, loosening it up. "It's not your fault," he says. "They're ones killing themselves over it."

Her head moves to the side. "You think that?"

"Well, maybe not yet, but it'll be their downfall. I can feel it."

The princess looks straight ahead once more. "It is my hope then that you will not be a part of that." She grunts a little as Link rips one of the laces out of the grommets, and she sways on her bare feet a little with each motion.

"Mine too."

When Link gets the last of the lacing out, he hands both laces to her. She clutches the corset to her chest and tells him to wait. "I'm not quite done with you yet."

Link moves over to the table and takes a seat again. The world blinks out as he slams his face into his arms. The princess rifles through her stuff, and then her voice drifts through the black. "Are you tired? Or are you just being overly modest now?" she asks, not even bothering to hide the laughter in her voice.

"Tired."

A trunk slams shut.

The bedchambers come back.

The princess has Link by the hair. She stands in nothing but her nightshift; the exposed, pale skin on her limbs glow ethereally in the firelights and her hair shines golden. "You still haven't finished off your wine," she tells him. Letting his hair go, she grabs the glasses from the table. He follows her like a loyal dog from the table over to the bed. She clambers up onto it, the wine sloshing dangerously in the glasses. Link merely sits on the edge of the bed and takes back his glass. They stay like that in silence, the princess nursing her drink and Link swirling his around in the glass. Finally, Link throws back what's left of his wine and puts the glass on the bedside table and the princess' glass soon follows.

Link runs his hands through his hair.

The princess reaches out and pulls him back onto her stomach. Gentle fingers massage his scalp, and she says, "They'll want something out of you. I'm sure they know you're here."

Link mumbles the affirmative.

"What do _you_ want though, Link?" she asks him. "Your brother is heir to all your father's, correct?"

"Yes," Link breathes.

"What would you like then, dear? I can speak with His Majesty." Link doesn't say anything, his eyes darting back and forth. "A title of your own? Land? You won't have any land once your father passes on, and your brother will take his title." Link still remains silent. After a bit, she removes her hands from his hair. One hand lies on his chest, and the princess releases a frustrated huff. "Link. Talk to me," she commands.

"What I want gets pissed on like dogs marking territory by my family," he says blankly.

Looking down at him, the princess blinks. "Oh, love," she laments. "You know why I love you best of all? Court life is not your type of strategy game. While everyone else here is multifaceted, switching from one face to another depending on who they're speaking with, here you are with your one face. They may think that's a death wish, but trust me, love, have courage and you'll see the light soon enough."

The room gets hazy as she curls herself over and kisses his cheek. Colors blend into one another, and the fine edges of objects blur and fuzz. "Go back to your brother and lie through your teeth now. Can you do that for me?"

"You say this is not my type of game; you trust me to keep your secrets?"

"Always," she whispers, nose to nose with him.

The world snaps back to focus when Link finally rises up from the bed, straightens his tunic and moves towards the balcony. "Not that way," she murmurs from behind. The princess pulls him along to one of the smaller rugs in the room; she lifts it up to reveal a small square of flooring that doesn't quite match the rest. The princess yanks the trapdoor free, and Link bends down the peer into the black. When he looks back up, the princess has produced a spare candle, already lit for him. He takes it from her while she tells him, "This leads to a few places, so listen carefully. Keep to the right. There will be a few forks, but if you keep to the right, you'll end up down by the kitchens."

"Is this how you sneak food after hours?" he jokes, and the princess breaks out one last smile for him. She slaps his arm playfully, but he continues on, "Seriously. You had this here, and yet you make me drag my ass halfway up the castle walls? You _are_ mad."

"Oh, kill me for a bit of romanticism, darling.

"Now go!" she urges, and gives him a little push. "Get back to your brother."

"Going, going," he mumbles.

She gives him one last swift kiss on the corner of his mouth, and he slips down the passageway. As I slide down after Link, the princess closes the trapdoor, and the rug thumps the door when she throws it back. The passage is shrouded in darkness with the only light being the candle in Link's hand. He shuffles down the passageway, keeping to the princess' instructions and kicking up dust and dirt. Every now and then he'll stop to shake off cobwebs from his arms or hair and swiping his hands occasionally when the feeling of the webbing doesn't leave.

Eventually, we come out from behind a large case of shelving cluttered with preserves, and I hear the clattering of pans from above. Just as she'd said, we've ended up down by the kitchens in a cold room. Link looks around to get his bearings, shuts the passageway and then he takes off with purpose in his stride. I follow him through the maze of the castle; I have to wonder how anyone can find their way around in this place. Link moves in long, swift strides until I'm lead back to Link's shared chambers.

When Link opens the door, Raven lies on the bed a knowing in his face. As Link closes the door, Raven asks, "What happened to your face? I knew the princess was a bit feisty, but-"

"She threw her gauntlet at me."

"She what?"

"You saw, didn't you?"

"Well, I obviously didn't see that part," the brother drawls with exasperation. "I saw you hustling up those vines though."

Link pulls his boots off and then shoves his brother to the side of the bed. He crawls onto the bed and then curls up in the blankets, his back to his brother. Weary, Link's eyelids flutter open and closed as he stares into the crackling fire across the room. It snaps and flicks its flames here and there with little care. The fire's soft laughter fills the room, but Link doesn't shy away from its mocking nature.

"Link."

"Shove it."

"Link, come on. Tell me."

"She threw her gauntlet at my face, and then we played cards. Had a few drinks, I lost terribly in the game and thanked Farore we weren't playing for money, and then I left."

The fire cackles away in the hearth, and the glowing light it casts dances through the room. Link shifts around under the blankets, trying to get comfortable.

"That's it?"

"Yes," Link snaps and closes his eyes.

…

Birds caw, and the trees rustle as they take flight above me. I turn my head and see Ordona lying out on the surface of the spring next to me. "Was that helpful to you at all, child?" Ordona asks as I sit up in the spring. It flicks its tail a little.

"I think so," I say. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, child."

The golden goat raises its nose in the air. It rises up on all four legs and shakes its coat out, sending little flecks of gold spraying out like water off of a shaggy dog. Little balls of light swish this way and that around the spring. Ordona steps off of the spring and onto the solid ground. Grass sprouts forth with new life at each touch of the light spirit's hooves. I watch as the great golden goat reaches up and plucks a few leaves from one of the trees above. It chews on the greenery thoughtfully. "The woods aren't as sweet as they used to be," the spirit says.

It takes a few steps and then lies back down on the water, folding its front legs under. The goat continues to grind the leaves as it stares down at me.

"You're not quite so talkative today," it observes.

I lean back in the water. "I don't feel right," I tell the spirit.

"Dark times often brood dark thoughts," the spirit offers me, but a more guilty sort of notion eats at me. The memory I'd witnessed made me feel more intrusive than the others.

I say instead though, "I think he knows I've been coming here." I shake my head. "Sorry; I _know_ that he knows."

The goat plucks some of the grass out of the spring and chews on that.

"He really loved her, didn't he?"

Insects sing out their chorus, and the birds occasionally caw out to one another. The forest is alive all around us, but everything surrounding the spring seems frozen, and it is just me and the light spirit Ordona. The goat continues to gnaw on the grass in its mouth, all the while staring unblinkingly at me. Little wisps of ghosts brush my skin, kicking life into the dead air of the woods.

Finally, the goat offers me some words. "Pure hearts rarely stray from truth," the goat says.

"I'm not really in the mood for puzzles," I grumble, turning my head.

I yelp at the sharp pain in my scalp, and Ordona lets my hair go. It stares down at the grass it dropped. The blades drift apart in the water, and the goat moves to scoop them back up.

"I should ask him myself?"

When the goat does nothing to contradict me, I sigh and stare back up at the canopy of trees. I close my eyes, enjoying the cool water lapping away at me, the way my hair flows through the clear liquid and fans out. A frog croaks out from somewhere close by. The soft grind of Ordona chewing is a steady effect in the background of spontaneity.

Ordona eventually nudges my cheek. "You should head back, child," the goat tells me. "I smell moisture in the air."

"Okay," I whisper and get to my feet. The golden goat bends once more and kisses the crown of my head to send me on my way. A mother bird pushing a young one out of the nest to fly.

…

"Ms. Firefly?"

Oh… Agitha.

I turn around and give the girl a small smile. "Hello Agitha. How are you today?"

She smiles, and she once again offers me a quick curtsey. "Did you find the spring, Firefly?" she asks me. "There are many bugs to be found."

"I can't say I was out looking for insects, but I did find it," I tell her. "Thank you for pointing me in the right direction.

"But um… listen, Agitha," I begin gently, and I take a quick look around us. Few people are out and about in the town. Some are trucking home groceries on their arms. Others are school children like Agitha, whooping and chasing one another in the street. Even people in the shops look preoccupied more with their thoughts than anything. "Listen," I start again, "it's probably best you don't talk to me or seek me out."

The little girl's eyelids flutter as she considers this. "What do you mean?" she asks, and I feel my heart wrench a little. How am I to explain this to her? She doesn't understand at all. My magic marks me as something unknown, something dangerous… something to fear. We are living in a time where fear, hatred and misunderstanding are supposed to rule. How is a child supposed to understand all that when their vision is blissfully clouded by ignorance? I bend down at my knees and place my hands on the girl's shoulders. "Ms. Firefly?"

"Zelda!"

I spin on my feet, rising up to full height in a flash. Link pounds his way down the sidewalk, hands stuffed in his tweed slacks. "Hey," I greet weakly as he stops just before Agitha and me.

"Ms. Firefly, who's that?" Agitha asks, tugging on my shirt sleeve.

Link peers down at the girl, Mido's green cap shielding his eyes from the late sun. "Link, this is that girl I was telling you about." His brow twitches, but he keeps himself in check. A bubbling in my chest begins to build, and I see Link as a green-clad knight, slamming his brother up against a wall by the throat. He shoots me a look when he sees me place a tentative hand at the base of my throat.

"My name's Agitha!" the girl chirps. She gives Link the same courtesy, pulling her skirt out on either side of her and does a quick dip.

She turns to me, and she says, "Ms. Firefly, I'll see you another time. Dinner should be ready by now." Then to Link: "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Grasshopper!" With that, she hurries off and turns to give a swift wave.

Link turns to me and glares at me. "What?" I say. "I was trying to tell her not to talk to me again. I'm worried for her."

"Well, that aside," Link spits, "I'm 'Grasshopper'? Are you kidding me?"

I shift on my feet. "You're mad," I say as he strides past me. I turn to see him stopped in his tracks, looking at me with his jaw somewhat slack. "What, mad that I'm right now?" I press.

He clamps his mouth shut for a moment, his eyes darting to look anywhere but me. Then he turns and continues down the street, calling out, "_You're_ mad!" I chase after him, giggling away while he fumes.

"Grasshoppers aren't so bad," I say.

I call out, "Where are you going?"

Link turns, walking backwards, his hand still in his pockets. "I figured you might be in need of that food thing that you do."

"Eating is a 'food thing'?"

He rolls his eyes at me, but I can see the smirk that pulls at his mouth as he turns back. I hurry up to fall in pace with him. "Let me fix your suspenders," I say. "It keeps coming loose in the back."

He stops and allows me to adjust his shirt and suspenders. As I reattach the loose clip, he asks, "Why're you wet, by the way?"

"I went down to the creek," I tell him.

"Do you want to go back to the inn and change?"

"It's okay, Grasshopper," I say. "I think it's supposed to rain anyway."

Link scowls. "Seriously, 'Grasshopper'?"

"Watermelon sherbet."

"Now that's two things I've never had."

**...**

I'm shaken from my sleep. Opening my weary eyes, I see Link's glassy ones looking back at me. "What?" I grunt, and I smack him away. I hug the pillow to me and curl a little more in the blankets.

"Come on, Zelda, get up," he says. A quick jab to my side makes me squirm a little, but I stay put on the bed. "Zee, come on." He adds an extra whine, "Pleeeaaase?"

"What is so important?"

"We're going into the woods."

Upon hearing this, I rouse from my sleepy state. "The woods? What for?"

"Remember that triangle I told you about?"

"Yes?"

"We're going," he says definitely.

I say, "You want the sword?"

Link's lips thin for a few moments before he replies, "I don't know. I'm not exactly me anymore. I don't know if she'll recognize me."

"She?" I repeat, dazed. "It's a sword. Not a boat or something."

"It's a girl, trust me," he chuckles.

He nudges me again. "Now get up and get dressed. We're taking everything; I got you food as well."

I drag myself out of bed. Before I can even step towards the bathroom, Link hands me Malon's clothes, underwear and a new heavy knit sweater, everything freshly washed. I thank him and shuffle off to wake myself from my sluggish state.

The same girl is working the counter when we reach the lobby. Her eyes are still glued to the magazine in front of her; she doesn't even bat an eye as she takes back our key, and Link pays her what we owe.

Once we're out in the morning air, I can feel the first signs of the autumn frost trying to settle itself in. I stuff my hands under my armpits to keep the warm from the morning chill, and I silently thank Link for having the sense to grab something warm for me. We take off down the streets. The morning is solemn and quiet within the sleepy town, but as I look around, it's almost as if there's nobody else actually up and about. Ghosts float across the road, thick and white, and I can barely see the end of the block. The town's aura is off this morning, and one quick look inside to my core, the leathery wings give a soft flutter. Link seems to catch onto this as well for he walks at a brisk pace, our bag's strap caught in a death grip within his hands. His eyes dart around the empty street. One hand releases the strap and snatches my arm. I whimper a little, and Link lessens the pressure but continues to pull me along at his pace.

"Much colder this morning," I comment.

"It is."

Our shoes clip the sidewalk with each step. The hanging signs from the storefronts creak a little when a slight breeze flows through. Closed signs do not stir from their places in the front doors of shops, and I see nothing within that shows any clue to life inside the buildings. We stop at the end of the block, looking one way and then the other for any sign of a car coming, but there are none out on the street. There is not one engine chugging, not one pair of lights trying to cut through the fog. There's not even one car out on the road even parked along the side.

Instead of crossing, Link and I stand stock still at the street corner. He relinquishes my arm.

"Link, something's wrong."

"I know."

I look up and down the streets, straining to see anything through the white cotton clouds, but everything seems empty. When I take a second sweep through, Link nudges me with his elbow and mutters to me, "That general store down the block is open."

"Let's go then."

Link turns to me, his arm up and out in offering this time. The smallest of smirks grace our faces as I take his arm, and we stroll down the deserted street to the general store. This is absurd. A string of bells chime when Link swings the door open. A cat snoozing on the counter stirs from its slumber; it arches its back and slides its front paws out while it greets us with a lazy yawn. The tabby meows loudly before slinking off of the counter and out of sight.

Behind the counter is a doorway blocked off by a curtain, and the smallest hint of a face pokes through a crack. A heavy sigh leaves her lips as a woman pulls it back. Her smile is crooked, more akin to a grimace than anything as she waddles up to the counter. "Is there anything I can help you with?" she asks.

Link glances one around the shop, drinking in the mishmash selection of items. Items, but no people. There are no other customers in the store besides the two of us, and the large woman behind the counter cocks an eyebrow at us. She slumps down onto the counter and tugs a little at one of her brown curls as she waits for one of us to respond.

I can hear the faintest of clicks when Link blinks.

"What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Where is everybody?" Link presses.

The woman stiffens somewhat, and her knuckles crack as she fists one hand. The wings begin to beat their rhythm within my breast. Slick and black. She chomps down on the back of her bottom lip, trying hard not to let us know, but I see it. And I can't imagine that that's something Link would ever miss or overlook.

And he doesn't. "What do you know?" he rounds.

"I-!" she exclaims, flinging herself back from the counter. Her arms fly up, hands next to her round face. "They're coming!"

The blood in my veins cools to slush at those words. It sounds foreign to me, when my voice lets out, "Who?"

The woman lowers her hands, and her eyes do a quick scan of the shop. Her lower lip quivers a little, and then she leans onto the counter toward us. "Somebody here has been using magic." I don't dare take my eyes off of her to look at Link. "A woman that lives on the south side of town saw it, so the squads are coming."

"Hiding out isn't going to do anything for anybody," Link says. "They have the authority to enter whatever home or establishment they please."

"Just drop it!" the woman snaps.

Link steers me out without another word.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. I hang my head, my vision focused on nothing but the toes of the shoes on my feet.

Link shrugs. "No harm done, unless we don't make it a good way into the woods in time."

"But it's my fault."

Link turns me and lifts my chin up to face him completely. "Zelda, listen," he tells me. "They were going to come no matter what. Nothing will stop this short of a total overhaul in the government." His head tilts slightly, and then he says, "Zelda?" I give him a curt nod. We both give the general store one last glance before Link takes me by the arm and leads me down the street.

"I don't get it though," I say. "It's just as you say, what's the point of hiding?"

"They're afraid" is all Link says.

A cluster of trees comes into view when there's a break in between the buildings, and we head down the alley. Halfway down, Link stops all of a sudden. When I speak to him, he shushes me. He gives a slight tug on the tip of my ear. I try and strain my hearing, but nothing comes to me. I turn to Link and shake my head.

And then it comes to me. In the distance, bouncing through the town's quiet streets are the callings of men. "Do you hear their feet?" Link asks me. I don't, so I shake my head again. "They're pounding," he whispers. "There's quite a number of them." In only a few seconds, we're gone from the alley and gone from the town of Ordon and into the woods.

The trees have begun to turn. Many of the leaves haven yellowed around the edges, others have already to drop a few leaves here and there. What litters the forest floor, however, are the dead leaves of seasons past, still trying to go back to the earth as they crunch under our feet. Other than the sound of my heavy breathing, the crackling leaves as Link and I step and the quiet hiss coming from Link's body, there is no other sound in the woods as Link expertly guides us through the brush. There's not even a rustling from the wind.

The hair on the back of my neck begins to prickle, but when I look inside, the wings have settled down from their earlier alarm.

By midday, it's warmed up so much, I've shed the sweater and have the sleeves of my shirt rolled up. Link digs through our pack and gives me a meager meal, but I eat it without complaint and take the water he offers me gratefully. The forest around us is as still as ever and quiet like death. It's as if the place has been hollowed out of its life, slowly being sucked dry from the inside out.

"What's wrong with this place?" I ask Link finally. He takes back the canteen and shoves it into the pack. The bag gets slung over his shoulder, and Link readjusts the strap so the bag sits flush against his back. "It's as if there's nothing here at all."

"There isn't." At my startled look, he continues, saying, "Animals have better intuitions than people do. They've already received the warning."

"About the squads?" I ask. My brow needles. What in the world could the president's squads do to the life that filled this forest?

But Link doesn't answer me. "There's a ridge a few hours northwest. We'll camp there tonight," he tells me, already on his way, so I rush after him. "Tomorrow we can tackle the Sacred Grove."

Later in the night, when I lie down for sleep, Link tends to the fire. We're safely snuggled in the bush, surrounded by the towering trees. The eerie quiet leaks into my muscles and bones and makes it so that I cannot sleep. I lie awake, watching the fire. When it starts to die, Link feeds it a little more until it's satiated. I lie there until the crackling lulls me to sleep.

By morning my limbs are stiff and ache from the long hike the day before, but I truck on, following Link as he expertly navigates the woods. The trees begin to close in around us; the patches of sunlight shrink the further we go. My feet protest with each step until we stop to let me rest at the base of a cliff. I collapse against the rock and look up. There's a crack of light streaming down to us from where the cliff ends, but apart from that, the forest is dark and dank.

I pull the sweater I'd shed earlier in the morning back on. By the time my head pops through the collar, I look around to see that Link has disappeared. I'm left alone with the duffel. If it weren't for the cliff, there'd be no break in the canopy of trees, and I sit there for a while as the shadows creep across the firmament. With my feet throbbing, I make the decision to just stay where I'm at, and I curl a little into my sweater.

The tangible quiet tucks me in.

I end up dozing for a while, only stirring when I hear the rustling of the plants around me. The vegetation flickers before me until my eyes focus on the lanky figure trudging through. Link looks sour. Still drowsy, I slur, "What's wrong?"

"It's changed," he bites. "We'll have to go up the cliff and see if we can find a new entrance up there."

"What're you talking about?"

"We're in magicked territory now, love," Link explains, plopping down next to me. "Remember how I told you this place likes to change? The goal is to make whoever comes here lost; it's to protect the Grove from being easily accessed."

I mutter back, "Fantastic."

"You rest at all?"

"I guess," I mumble. I rub the sleep sand from one eye. "I was sleeping for a little bit there. I don't know how long it's been since we got here."

Link drags the bag over to him and opens it up. Digging through he says, "I don't either, in all honesty.

"Are you thirsty?"

I hold out my hand, and Link passes the canteen to me. The lukewarm liquid slips down my throat when I tip back the canteen. When I've had my fill, I cork it and pass it back saying, "We're going to have to refill that. There's not much left." Link gives it a little shake, the water sloshing about.

"Guess so.

"Ready to go up then? Or do you need to stay and rest some more?" Link asks.

I groan. "Help me up," I say. "Let's just keep moving. I'll be sore no matter what."

Link chuckles and pulls me up from the ground. "That's my girl," he laughs as I complain about my bottom going numb during the time he'd left me.

My joints crack and protest, but I trail along behind Link as he shows me a small alcove in the cliff side that we use to move up. My dirt covered hands grip the rock's face as we scale up the cliff. Every now and then comes a ledge for us to pull ourselves up onto, and Link, being as patient as ever, waits for me at each ledge to collect my breath and rest a little. "We'll have you running marathons in no time, city girl," he tells me. I drag myself up the rest of way while Link simply flings himself upwards.

Link takes ahold of me when he reaches the top and lifts me up. I worm away the moment he sets me on the ground, and he does nothing but laugh. "Maybe if I get a little more muscle, Malon's clothes will actually fit right," I mutter.

"I don't think a little more meat will do much for your height though," Link teases me. He points out the rolled cuffs of the denim overalls. Like dead weight, he falls over still laughing when I kick him square in the chest.

"What do you think's happened to Ordon?"

Link shrugs, rolling back up onto his bottom. "Can't really say." His feet tap rhythmic beats on the earth. "I do hope everyone's alright there though."

"Yeah," I wheeze.

I turn my head and catch sight of a dragonfly whizzing through, and my thoughts snap to Agitha as her laughter rings through my head. The insect settles down on a stray rock and flutters its wings. It sparkles a little in the sunlight like her little pools of grey.

But I shudder a little when I hear her mother's shrieking.

My heart lurches a little thinking of the squads storming through the sleepy town the way they did the carnival. The unsettling waves in my stomach rise up a little more when my mind drifts to Ilia and Darunia. Where ever they ended up, I can only hope and pray they're fine. Marin is determined enough, I have faith she can wiggle her way out of trouble. Where are they now? Do they see how everything is crumbling before them?

But Agitha's mother's shrieking doesn't cease when I think of the bright, bright, bright flames. The uniformed men stomping through the chaos in organized lines, Lenses out front. Fanadi caught in the debris of a burned wagon. Her skin and clothes wet with sweat from the heat. The drumming of feet on the grassy terrain.

The drumming stops.

Link pats my shoulder. His hand is as heavy now as his voice. "Come on, let's move," he tells me. My feet say otherwise. My muscles throb a little more. My joints flare up. I'm the dead weight now, even heavier with the thoughts that plague both Link's mind and my own.

"Can we just camp here?" I whine.

"You don't want to go the rest of the way?"

"No!"

"No need to be sour, love," Link says lightly in response to my pouting. The smirk never leaves his face. "Do you want grump lines?"

"Maybe I'll actually look twenty-nine then!"

"Or forty."

He dodges it, but the duffel bag goes flying.


	10. Who is the Lamb, and Who is the Knife

Coin-Operated

10.0

Who is the Lamb, and Who is the Knife

The dragonfly whizzes past me the next morning. Then it makes another lap around me as it darts through the air. There's a childish instinct in me the bursts forth, demanding, and I reach out and try to catch the bug in the cup of my hands without success when it zooms by again. As my eyes roll around, following the active insect, my brow needles. This doesn't seem like the right environment to find such an insect. I have a hunch that if I asked Agitha, that girl could tell me everything and more about dragonflies that I would ever care to know. But aren't they usually found near water?

"Link!" I call out into the woods. I try to see through the bush for any hint of him. I shout his name into the wilderness again.

Our pack sits open next to me. Slowly sinking, my stomach gives a churn, and I crack the knuckles of my fingers. The thought that he might have left me stranded in the middle of ever changing territory creeps into my thoughts. I have to shake my head of that ever lurking doubt as I try to rattle it out. There's no way he'd just dump me in the woods.

I curl up around the pack and clutch it to me. My swims a little with the movement, and I feel the need to vomit.

If Link ever were to leave me, which he very well could and very easily, I'd be done for. I'm not a survivalist in the least. But he's had opportunities to leave me hanging dry before. He could have left me the night the carnival burned.

The dragonfly settles itself on a nearby rock. I pull out some of the food Link had brought along for me. My hands shake. The flapping of wings buzzes in my ears as I watch the dragonfly take flight again. I absently chew the dried meat as it darts through the air, camouflaged by the canopy.

The swirling in my head doesn't ease up, so I turn away from what's above me and dig my face down into the fabric of our pack.

**...**

Screeching fills my ears and bounces of the hard stone and plaster walls. Filled with pain, they turn to desperate wails. There's a break before it goes into the refrain, and a gentle voice wedges in. "It'll be alright, milady," a haggard woman says. She dabs a cloth to the other lady's forehead as she begins to whimper. "He's coming as you requested," she assures. "I've sent Sheik to get him. He'll come."

"Does Sheik know?" the blonde croaks.

"He does now.

"Off with your shift now; it's been ruined," the elder woman says. Gnarled hands help the younger blonde sit up, and despite her somewhat frail appearance, she has much strength in her bones. The elder wiggles the shift off of the blonde. All the drapes have been pulled tight and shut, blocking any sunlight – it's there even daylight – out. The room is sweltering and stuffy with heat as the main source of light in the room is the fire raging away in the hearth. Candles burn in a couple of the darker corners of the room, but the light is minimal. Despite the darkness, the red splotched on the blonde's clothing shows against the pale fabric. The blonde grunts in pain as she lowers herself back into her bed.

She lets loose a moan as she swipes her hair from her sweaty face. Even in the dim, I can see how horrible the Princess Zelda looks. Dark bags line both of her eyes. Her skin looks pasty and ghostly pale, much unlike the delicate porcelain of her younger self or the sun-kissed hue evidence of the time spent training for knighthood. Her eyes and cheekbones appear more sunken than what I've seen of her before, but I'm not sure whether or not this is simply a trick of the dark. Her face scrunches up, and she wails again as she clutches her bare stomach.

The elder woman feeds the nightshift into the hearth, turning it over in the flames until the garment ignites, and then returns to the lady's side. She drapes a thin sheet around the princess to cover her, causing the blonde more pain as she's lifted up once more. "Stay strong," the elder says. "It shouldn't be long now."

Bangs resound from the flooring. The elder hurries across the room and pulls back one of the thick rugs. The hatch breaks open, and Link's pale face bursts up from the floor with wide eyes. "Impa! How is she?" he asks immediately. The elder woman already has her back to him, shuffling back over to the princess as he clambers up from the underground passage. Link bends down and closes the door and throws the rug back in place.

"It is lost," the woman says. "We disguised her and took her down to the servants' quarters earlier this morning-"

"Why didn't you tell me then?" Link demands. The venom in his voice does not even cause the elder to blink.

"You were not needed then," Impa snaps. When Link opens his mouth to fight her more, she verbally slaps him again. "What's done is done, do not question it. Sheik has already paid the midwife and the physician off; there was nothing that could be done. You would have been as useless as the rest of us.

"Get her some wine."

Link rubs a thumb over one of the princess' clammy hands as the elder wrings another cloth in a washbasin and lays it over the blonde's head. Lucid eyes roll over from the woman, Impa and then to Link, but no recognition sparks in them. "The wine, Link." He lets the lady go with some reluctance and does as the elder asks. "She's lost a lot of blood," Impa says as she takes the wine bottle from Link's hand.

"How bad?" he whispers.

The elder pulls back the covers on the bed, and Link pales a little more at the sight. The sheets are soaked in the ruby liquid. It's smeared across the princess' thighs and even the blankets folded under her have been covered. Her expression grim, Impa lays the covers back.

"It shouldn't be long."

"She'll die."

"She's stronger than that," Impa says, lovingly tracing a finger down the young woman's jaw. "Just wait, and have faith."

She uncorks the wine and produces a large vial and then a spoon from her pocket. She pours out a few spoonfuls of the vial's mixture, dumping it into the wine. She corks and shakes the bottle and then puts it to Princess Zelda's cracked lips. "Come on, milady, drink," she says gently.

Link drags a chair over to the princess' bedside and plops himself into it. "Does your family know you're here?" Impa asks as he runs his fingers through his hair.

"No. I don't think so at least."

Impa nods and seats herself in another chair across the bed from Link, and the waiting game begins. On and off, Impa attempts to get the princess to drink more wine. No one speaks, save for the princess' screams whenever a new bout of pain washes over her.

Eventually, the flooring beings to thump again, and Impa rises. With silent feet, she goes to answer the trapdoor in the floor. A thin, almost frail, looking man comes up from the passageway, carrying with him a small wash basin sloshing with a little water. His muscles are taught as he brings the basin up, struggling some to fit through the passage. Impa helps him drag it over by the fire. There's a large kettle sitting by the hearth that he dumps the water into before putting it over the fire while Impa closes off the passageway.

"Anything yet?" he asks, and Impa shakes her head. She retakes her seat, and the man stands at the elder's side.

Hours seem to drag on, the man occasionally moving the check the fire and pot, until the princess beings to screech more forcibly than ever before. The man takes the pot off the fire and dumps it in a larger basin. The princess seizes on the bed, but no one dares to move to touch her until the small fit passes and a new one takes its place. Impa reaches over and tries to soothe her to no avail. They wait and wait and wait until finally her screaming stops and her head lolls to the side with weary, glassy eyes.

"Sheik," is all Impa says, and the thin man throws back the sheets. He lifts the bloodied, naked girl in his arms and carries her over to the basin. The elder sticks her hand in the basin to test the water. "It's fine." The man lays the princess in the basin and begins to scrub the blood from her legs.

Link looks on, his face stoic. His hands are braced against the seat of the chair as his eyes slide over to the mess on the bed. The sheets all glint with fresh blood. Impa strides over with quick, silent steps, movements that betray her old age. She tosses the pillows from the bed and begins to rip the bedding away. She pauses, and says sternly, "Link," but he does not respond. His eyes are glued to the glittering mass among the red. "Link!" she snaps, and he breaks from his reverie. "The sheets."

"But-"

"The sheets."

His breath hitches and rattles. "I can't."

"_The sheets_, Link."

He sucks in a swell of air and starts to gather the bedding up with shaking hands. Impa has him take the bottom sheet and the folded blankets first. He moves over to the hearth, and with only a single moment of hesitation, he tosses the bundle into the flames.

Impa strides over to the rug concealing the trapdoor. "I'll be back shortly," she tells the men before disappearing down under the floor.

Sheik nods his head, but Link only stares into the fire as the sheets begin to burn. Flames lick the cream and ruby fabric. The thin man pauses in his scrubbing and casts Link brief look. Muddled red water dribbles off of the blonde's leg as he lifts it to wash the back of it. "For what it's worth," he says, not even looking up, "I'm sorry, but… it had to be done."

At this Link nods and bends to pick up the poker. "Yes, it did," he whispers to himself and then prods the burning bundle.

**…**

"Zelda? Zelda, wake up." I blink. The world seems so bright until Link's head blocks out the sun. His face is more angled, more rugged than the boyish face I'd seen in my dream. This is the machine, not a man that tossed the princess' sheets into a fire. "I got more water for you," he tells me as I rub my eyes.

"Thank you."

"Are you hungry?"

Hungry? I put a hand to my belly and try to think. When had I eaten last? I ate… Wait. That's not right. "I don't know," I say. When had I eaten?

Link frowns a little. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asks. "I wouldn't want you continuing on otherwise."

"I don't know."

"Zelda?"

No.

No. I was eating right before… did I?

I run my hands over my eyes. "I think I fainted."

The rapid clicks softly sound as Link blinks a few times. "You… fainted?" he repeats as if he didn't hear me right.

"I think so," I say. "I don't… I don't feel well."

Link looks around. "Lie back down and get some more sleep. I'll see if I can catch anything in here." He uncorks the canteen. "Here drink a little at least."

I do as he asks while he trots off into the thicket again. The water is cool and welcoming to my dry throat and mouth. Wanting to conserve what I have, I hold back my want to drain the canteen. I cap it and lie back down, using our pack as my pillow, and fall back to sleep.

When Link shakes me awake next, the whole world is muddled and foggy. He says something to me, and I nod, feeling like my brain is a dead weight in my head. I don't process what he says, and I see how he cocks his head to one side. He helps me sit up and hands me a fish struck through on a stick. "It's all I could find," he says. "I caught and cooked a couple more, but… I can't say what the quality is." His laugh is dry and crackled.

My stomach could care less, however, and I rip into the food he's given me. "Don't eat too fast now; you'll get sick," he chides with a small smile.

"Shut up."

When the time comes to leave, Link takes the duffel from me and leads me through the maze of the woods. I follow along in a haze, completely lost in my thoughts and complete lack of energy, when I swear something clicks. I stop and my eyes try to see through the dark, dense woods, but I can't see anything and nothing comes to my ears.

"Link!" I hiss out at him. He keeps on walking. "I think I heard something."

"Hm?"

I hear it again.

The goose flesh shivers up my arms.

"That rattle, do you hear it?"

"Ignore it."

I clamp my mouth and then press on.

Up ahead of us is a dank tunnel shrouded in inky darkness. A portal to another world, and Link waltzes right into it, confident in his mechanical steps, while I skitter behind him like a startled rabbit. Link digs into our pack as the tunnel begins to swallow us whole.

The rattling starts up again. It clicks and clacks, a blocky buzz through the tunnels Link has led me into. I huddle into my sweater a little more when the gooseflesh begins to prickle up again. The sound fades away, but my heart still drums. I make a quick check into my core and see that the golden vines are up in arms, protecting me and that alone is comfort enough. Within my chest, the wings stretch their leathery feathers and give a short flutter to keep me alert.

The flashlight in Link's hand lights the dark tunnel, and the scene of him dressed in green and traversing the late Princess Zelda's secret tunnels surfaces in my mind. I have to blink away the hurt that bubbles up in my chest and the image of the blood covered mass in the sheets swims through my vision.

Nothing has come to meet us yet.

But the rattle shakes through my bones.

"Link-"

"Shh!"

The trickling of water reaches my ears as we come out from the tunnel. Little flecks of light float through the forest, comforting in their glow. For a second, I have to wonder if this is another spring, but the lights are different. They don't shine with glittering gold. While the lights are certainly an anomaly, they don't have the same ethereal quality that the springs of Lanayru and Ordon had. Link clicks the flashlight off, and he motions for me to stop. The trees hang lower here, branches and leaves reaching down to try and ruffle our hair. The only light is what manages to break through the thick canopy and the floating lights as water slowly flows into the pool.

Suddenly, my breath hitches when the wings take flight. The click sounds out a steady drum. The alarms ring through and through up my bones. "Link!" I hiss with panic.

His glassy eyes flick every which way, and he utters a curse on his breath. "Shit, he wants to play."

"What?" I balk.

"Just keep moving."

He tightens our bag on his back. With the flashlight in one hand, the other darts out and grabs me roughly into his vice grip. "Too tight!" The pressure lessens, but Link starts to drag me through the woods as fast as my feet will carry. Like a ghost almost, my feet skin the ground's surface as I fly along behind Link.

Hollow and low, the rattling drops right in Link's path. In a flash, Link has our direction thrown off, and the wooden creature cocks its head at us. "Don't stop," Link reminds me, and I can hear the way the creature clacks away behind us. His grip tightens a little more when a horn sounds in the distance, and I wince, but I'm sure he's not aware of his strength. Brassy and whiny, the horn blares again. Another of the wooden things drops from the trees right in our way, and this time I get a look at the humanoid creature. Its limbs jerk and twitch, and the head cocks one way and then the other as it looks down on us with a painted face.

"Is that thing a puppet?"

Before Link even responds, the wooden thing flies at us. With one quick swipe of his hand, Link throws it out of our way. The puppet smashes against the ground, clattering on. The xylophone sounds create a clustered beat as it skids across the forest floor. "What a pain the ass," Link growls. He lets me go to ram his foot down on the puppet.

"What now?"

"We move. Come on."

I feel my aching body crying out with each step I take, but I follow on despite my desperate muscles. The foliage reaches out as if to grab us, and we simply break through the greenery. With little care, our feet thunder on the packed dirt and crunching leaves as a steady drum in the eerie woods. Twigs snap and crack as we push them aside, but the rattling is always at bay. It's a symphony of queer percussion accompanied by the leathery wings, their alarm ringing through in a vicious flutter.

Link suddenly brings us to a stop. My breath coming in heaving waves at this point, the machine standing next to me looks as though he is only a spectator while I run a marathon. The soft clicking of his eyelids reaches my ears, and he takes my arm to keep me steady. The fork in the road comes in the form of two more tunnels. "Din dammit," Link spits. "We take the wrong one and we could be wandering around this hell forever."

I sputter out through my gasping breaths, "W-what?"

"This is the magic of these woods, love."

"I thought you knew where you were going."

"Somewhat, yes. I did. Not now." The horn calls to us from a distance, and Link's ears twitch. "We have to decide. Quickly."

I look between the two tunnels with uncertainty welling in my chest. "Well, let's just go!" I blurt.

"Fine," Link says. "Left." He takes my hand to lead me to the left fork, when suddenly I feel the pulsing of leather. Smooth and glaring, the warning swells up.

I shake my head. "Wait, wait!" Glancing at the other tunnel, the beating of wings in my ears drowning out the hollow xylophone in the woods, I say, "We should go right."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Our feet pound through the tunnel, Link's flashlight jerking the light with each stride. At one point, I shriek and then am blinded by the flashlight. Sticky, I swipe away at the skin of my cheeks and neck when I run into a spider web. The small, disgusting arachnid skitters away from us, and softly, Link chuckles. "Zelda," he pushes.

Still pulling at invisible webbing on my body, I grumble back, "I'm coming."

A large natural bridge erupts from the tunnel's end. It curls up like half a pipe, and I lean over one mossy side to see below. A trickling creek flows underneath along a dirt path, or at least an area where no grass can grow. Link peers over the side as well, and he wrinkles his nose. "Well, we have yet to go in a circle," he comments lightly in the quiet.

And that's when I realize it.

I look around, but see no wooden creature stalking us or hear the rattling anymore. "Link, what were those things?"

He sighs, and pulls away from the stone bridge's edge. He crouches down, letting the duffel drop to his feet, and then he pats the spot next to him. "Sit, you're tired." Nodding, I plop myself down, my muscles eager for relief from supporting me. He rubs the back of his neck as he stashes away the flashlight. "They're just as you called them before, puppets."

"So how are they moving?" I inject. "Are they like you in some way?"

Link laughs at this. "Hardly, no.

"See, legend has it that when people get lost in these woods, they turn into vicious creatures. I've heard a lot of different things, usually like how adults get turned into these skeletal warriors we called Stalfos, but that's just it. It's usually the adults that are physically changed by the magic of this place, so what happens when children get lost?

"I wouldn't call them Stalfos, but something fundamental changes in them. They don't stay human in this place." His hand falls from his neck and the other pulls Mido's tweed cap from his head. "I met one of these kids while I was trying to map the woods. To him, play time is attacking adults."

"So those things were like his cronies?"

Chortling, Link says, "Something of the sort."

We fall into silence, listening for anything unusual lurking in the foliage. Nothing reaches our ears though but the rustlings of the wind. Somewhere in this ungodly still, I can hear the faint screaming of the lady knight racketing to my inner ears. My eyes flicker around at the moss, the stone, the trees and leaves, trying hard not to even blink in fear that even in that brief moment, I'll see the bloody mass again. The rip of the duffel's zipper cracks through the air. I blink, and Link scrounges around. When I turn to look at him, for a second, I feel like I'm seeing that boyish Link, the one with real blue eyes and not some glass balls. The machine Link sits next me though, and he holds out some of the dried meat for me. "Here, love, eat a little something. You need it."

"Thanks," I say, taking the food. "There's not much left, is there?"

"No, but…" Link shrugs.

He laughs a little, light and limp. I flinch some when he reaches out. "Don't move, silly." With surprising delicate care that I didn't know he even had, he brushes the hair from my face and tries to comb through the matted mess. "Can't take you anywhere," he chuckles and pulls away.

"Link?"

"Hm?"

My lips quiver, and my mouth hangs loosely open as if I were a dim fish. I push through my initial hesitation. "The princess… the one that was a knight," I start, trying hard to keep that quiver out of my voice and refusing to look at him, "was her name Zelda too?"

A patter of clicks. "Yes. Where did you find the time to read up on your history?" he asks, and I see out of the corner of my eye as an amused smile drifts onto his face. It falls just as quickly though as he studies me. "Does it bother you?" The sudden gentle tone catches me off guard for a second. "Having the same name, I mean."

I shake my head. "Not really, no. It's a popular name," I say with a shrug. "When I was in grade school, there were at least three other Zeldas in my year."

"If not that then what?"

Truth be told, deep down I think it _does_ bother me. Does he see her in me? Is that why he was interested in me from the beginning? Though I'm wearing my sweater, it does nothing to ward the chill growing across my skin. The idea that I'm somehow a replacement worms itself way to the forefront of my mind, but that little seed of doubt that was planted so long ago feels a little assuaged. If I am such a reminder to him of the last Zelda of the House of Harkinian, at the very least I'll be less likely to be abandoned and left to die out in magicked woods.

I speak nothing of these festering doubts though, and instead I say to him, "I don't know. Do I remind you of her at all?"

His brow needles slightly at this, but he answers all the same. "I suppose you do look like her. She was one of a kind though. Mischievous and conniving. You certainly match her in smarts if anything else."

"What happened to her?"

"We went to war eventually with Calatia after she assumed power as a sole monarch. She was killed after taking an arrow in her collar," he says as somber inflection try to work their way into his synthetic voice. "She's not that big of a historical figure apart from reaching knighthood. Her reign as queen was short-lived."

So she lived. That is, if what I saw earlier of the screams and bloody bundle is a real event and not a figment of imagination run wild in a dream world. Link had said before that she never married, leaving behind no legitimate heirs. _Legitimate_ children.

"I don't feel well, Link."

"I know, dear. Take a breather," he says. "We can move on again in a little while."

* * *

><p>I don't think this was too bad, but if it was a little squeamish, I'm sorry. I feel a little bad though, because I think out of every character in this story, the Princess Zelda is probably my favorite. I love her personality, but I find her pretty amazing as well for the simple fact that she could make such a lasting impression on a person. The parts of the story that include her as a living character have also so far been the easiest to write, although I just want to say that this may be because I like her. Haha.<p>

Also, I can't really believe no one has caught on to the trend in the chapter titles. I planned to post a complete list where it all comes from at the end as they are not my own and so they're all in one spot. I wanted to sneak in little Easter eggs of some of my favorites, so give it a shout if you think you've figured it out.

My classmate, the one that was run over by a train this past summer, finally got his new prosthetic leg recently. My boy was disappointed that he did not get a bird talon or whatever. I'm not too sure how he could walk properly on something like that.

Frohe Ostern!

:p


	11. Forty Feet Remain

Coin-Operated

11.0

Forty Feet Remain

It's as if someone suddenly flipped a switch. We come upon an ancient grove with me in the lead over Link; the wings give me their quiet protest to ward us from the wrong path. The slight flutter keeps me alert despite my lack of energy. Sunlight has finally broken through the canopy, and the light sparkles as if casting itself on something ethereal. The little flecks continue to shoot one way and the next, Link saying that they were thought to be fairies once. Warmth seeps into my skin, but maybe I am only feeling its comforting touch now that we are finally out of the maze of the woods. The quiet is soothing, much unlike the eeriness that creeps through the maze.

When I look at Link next to me, I realize how hard it can be sometimes to remember that in his current state, he is nothing more than a machine. His overwhelming human qualities and his vivid memories can make me temporarily forget his current state with the way he will still unconsciously rub at the back of his neck. His facial expressions as of late have become more refined like a human's. Even now, although his eyes are wide as he looks at our surroundings, and I can see some hint of awe and recognition of the area in his face, it's his eyes that remain a constant reminder that he is just a machine. Little glass balls cannot swim with emotion the same way that a human's can.

Most of all, Link does not "sleep" like I do. Link shuts down, turns off. Yet he dreams in his off times. Never does he speak of the dreams in detail, but with the way he looks upon the grove, I feel a prickling that forces my mouth open. "Link, do you see this space when you're dreaming?"

"I do," he says softly. "But I'm not me."

"Then who are you?"

A small snail chugs along in front of his shoes, and he reaches out to touch the snail in what seems to be nostalgia. His rubberish skin catches on the shell, and he lets his finger trail across it though he feels nothing. "I don't know," he says. "Sometimes, when I'm in Ordon, I dream of goats."

"Ordon has plenty of goats, Link."

"Oh, don't I know it!" he laughs. "But the few times I don't dream of the woods, it's the village, but it's smaller – smaller than I remember. All the buildings are wooden – not one with plaster walls like I can recall. I'll hear my name, and when I look over my shoulder, I'll see my old warhorse annoyed with these goats in a pen. She's not even quite the same." His eyes click closed, and he leans his head back as he delves back into his dream world. "_My_ warhorse had a bad temperament, smart, and she would test my patience with her every day from puffing herself out when trying to saddle her to attempting to create a new bald patch on my head." The image of his troublemaking horse surfaces, and I fight the smile trying to stretch my lips when I can see and hear her snicker at young Link's attempts to get her ready for training and how her massive size dwarfs the page as he chastises her. "This one though doesn't seem groomed for war in the slightest, and she's much more mannered. You could call her a little polite even, but I just _know_ she has her preferences."

"You had told me you dreamed of the desert sometimes too, right? You were you, but yet not-"

"Because I'd never been to a desert," he finishes. "Hm."

He nudges me after a moment of thought. "Remember how I explained to you before that these woods form a triangular space?" I nod. "This is that final point. Nothing here changes but what the flow of time dictates."

"So you've been here before."

"Of course," he says with a grin, and with his jaunty steps, Link goes deeper into the grove. He turns back to check if I'm following once he reaches a threshold of stone, moss and vines. The old stone has been worn away and in some spots, there's a brick or two missing. Insects infest the small the pathway beyond the threshold, and it twists and turns until a large boulder blocks our way. It takes Link a few moments before he's able to get a good foothold, and then he hoists himself up. Vines break away from the force and weight and fall limply to the ground. Link, still crouched, swivels and reaches out to help me up.

"There's a pretty steep drop ahead. I'll help you down."

Link swats his hand through the air, taking out some webbing hanging low. The stonework continues around us under all the vegetation. "What was here?" I ask.

"Some sort of temple," Link replies. "I'm not really sure. It was already in ruins like this in my day."

When the narrow passage cuts off at a drop, Link motions for me to stop before launching himself over the edge. He lands on his feet with little more than a slight bend in the knee. "Just climb over!" he calls up, and I peer out into the area. What was once a building has been overrun by nature once more. Trees have broken through some of the stone to stretch their roots and branches. Moss has clambered onto statues to hide them from view. When I look down at Link, he suddenly seems small. There's a slight twist in my gut, and it's not from lack of food, and I turn and swing my legs over. I hang for a second before letting my weight crawl down the ledge. Link's laugher lifts up into the air. "I'll get you, don't worry. Just let go."

"No way!" I cry, thinking of my already screaming muscles. "You're made of metal!"

"Fine! Can you reach my shoulders?"

Hanging by my fingers at this point, I swing one foot trying to find a hold. "Link! I'm going to drop!"

"Do it! You're only a few inches away," he laughs.

My feet find Link's shoulders, although for a moment, a strike fear races through me when I think I'm going to fall back. Link takes hold of my legs to steady me as my hands claw at the face of the ledge. He lowers me down slowly, until I can safely hop off. "After we get out of here," I spit, "I never want to do that again."

"Do you have no sense of adventure?"

"I think I'm having enough adventure to last me a few lifetimes, thanks."

"So grouchy."

Grass, moss and wild weeds have sprung and crawled their way through cracks in old stone flooring underneath our feet. Some tiles have been completely taken over, while others have gone missing. Gnarled roots from the trees spring up here and there as Link and I walk further into the old structure. "It looks like a chessboard, almost," I comment as we step onto a diamond shaped field of black and white tiles.

"I think it was some sort of puzzle once," he says as we approach a towering threshold guarded by two giants. Halberds in hand, they stare out into the grove but are strangely untouched by the wild and ever growing plant life. The axes on their weapons shine and the tips of the pikes sparkle under the sunlight. I feel as if they have eyes, and they stare me down as we pass by.

"Link," I call once we pass through the threshold, and I feel the weight of the guardians off of me. "What are those things? There aren't any plants on them either."

"A final hurdle," he tells me. "Although you're right, it's a little weird that there's nothing on them."

The passageway opens up into an open chamber. Parts of the ceiling have long since been torn away, allowing the sunlight to pool into the area. A pedestal sits in the center, entombing a sword. "Is this the one?" I breathe as we come up to it.

Link smiles, but it's not his usual quirky one. The feeling of nostalgia behind it almost makes me think for just a moment, that he's actually human. "It's been a long time." His fingers touch the blade, whose metal has yet to even lose its shine, let alone rust. The broadsword has a flat face and razor edges. Engraved near the purple winged hilt is the pattern of the Triforce. Link takes the sword by the hilt in one hand. He pulls away after a minute, frowning, and stares at his fingertips. "She doesn't recognize me anymore." He wiggles his fingers some. "I have arms and hands and fingers and appear similar to my old self, but not even old friends can recognize me now."

"It's a girl?"

This makes him chuckle some. "Of course, and her name's Fi."

"I like it. She's pretty."

It's almost comforting to hear the way birds chirp in the distance again and the rustling of leaves as wind whips through the treetops, as if there's life in the woods once again. Bathing in the sunlight is warming like an intangible hug, and the way it filters through to the pedestal makes the ancient sword gleam. I know though, outside this area, the forest is silent and vacant.

I, too, reach my hand out and touch the sacred sword. It hums through to my soul when I take hold of the hilt, and I feel its beat. The sword's heartbeat pulses up through my arm until I release it. The blade is smooth to the touch, but the edges are razor sharp, and my hand recoils at the first sting. A little bubble of claret seeps from the wound, and I quickly suck the metallic liquid from my finger.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I dragged you all the way out here and for nothing."

I shrug, still enthralled by the ancient sword. "It's not like we could have stayed in Ordon longer."

"I had foolishly thought that maybe in some way she could help me again. If only I could wake her…"

**…**

It's waiting for us outside of the grove. The puppets crackle and shake their limbs and heads and buzzed like cicadas. The small thing with the horn shakes its masked head left and right, left and right as it approaches us. "Skull Kid," Link mutters to me, and his expression turns grim. It pauses, then takes a few steps towards us. Laughter, high-pitched and bouncing between notes comes from the Skull Kid, and then it takes another few steps toward us. Link steps in between me and the Skull Kid and its puppets, and it looks curiously at us. It suddenly jumps back, its head swinging wildly side to side. It perks up some, and then it scampers over to pick up a somewhat thick stick. It giggles and points at Link, then whips the stick around. Skull Kid slashes the stick downwards and then holds it out for Link. It laughs again when he takes the stick, and then it waves one of its hands. I realize that the creature wants Link to mimic it when it repeats the motion. Link figures this too before I say anything, and he slashes the air with the stick. Skull Kid makes a jabbing motion, and with a quick glance back at me, Link mimics this as well. They go through another set of motions, and then the Skull Kid laughs.

Pleased with Link humoring it, the Skull Kid scampers off into one of the wood's tunnels. It stops at the entrance before turning back to see if we're following or not. I look to Link, and after a second, he steps forward and past the puppets. "It's fine now. Come on."

The Skull Kid's giggles bounces through the wood walls of the tunnel and Link lets the stick scrape along in one hand and the flashlight in the other. Skull Kid's steps are short despite its lanky limbs. It tugs at the wide brim, straw hat on its head as we come out on the other end of the tunnel. Raising its horn, it blows into it. The sound rockets through the woods. The mutated child rustles as if it is a tree, and holds its hand to its head to listen for a response to the horn call. It leans forward, and I exchange perplexed looks with Link, but we keep our silence. I jump when the Skull Kid suddenly leaps up. It giggles again and waves at us. Slightly hunched, Skull Kid hurries onward into the twisting woods.

I can hear the rattling of Skull Kid's puppets in the dark depths of the forest. Our feet trample the fallen, dead leaves. The shuffling of the Skull Kid kicks up the crunchy, organic matter. Occasionally, we have to stop for the child to blow the horn in its hand as it leads us through. Time passes in a drudging pace until an overhang meets us. The Skull Kid rushes to the edge in a full-on sprint, and then it peers over the edge.

When it turns back to us, it shakes some, trying to hold in its laughter. It points into the foliage below and bounces around some. It ceases its bouncing, and then its limbs begin to crackle as it points. Link takes a step forward, but this only seems to alarm the child. Gloved hands shove forward with open palms, and it shakes its head. Link steps back and casts me a curious look. However, when I step forward, the mutated child stops me as well. It turns back to look out into the lower level of the woods before back to us while throwing its arms down. "I think it wants us to get lower," I say. Link frowns but shrugs and drops to the ground, and I follow suit. We crawl up to the edge, and the Skull Kid wiggles itself in between us.

It points again, and I squint into the woods. "I can't see anything," I mutter. Link grunts in response as he cranes his neck some. When his eyes widen, I press him, "You see something?" He doesn't respond as if he's frozen up. "Link?" He shrinks back from the edge, and the Skull Kid pulls back with him. "What is it?"

"Zelda, get back and stay quiet," he whispers.

"What is it?" I ask again as I crawl back.

"Those Din damned squads somehow got this far into the Lost Woods."

We pull away from the overhang to the closest tunnel we can find. Link absently swings the stick around as he mulls over his thoughts. He's watched with much interest by the Skull Kid, until finally, it takes a few bow-legged steps up to Link and tugs on the back of his shirt. He turns to Skull Kid, and it pretends to swing a stick of its own. Link relinquishes the stick and says, "Sorry, but I don't think a sword can help me now.

"Listen," he says after a moment where the Skull Kid has a silent lament over the stick, "do you think you can get us around them?"

Instead of responding to Link's inquiry, Skull Kid looks over its shoulder in the direction of the overhang. When its attention is back on Link, it breaks into a hopping a dance. Realizing the creature won't speak, Link says to it, "Draw it for us." The hopping ceases, and the stick in hand, the Skull Kid bends to the patch of dirt under out feet and begins to etch into it a picture.

Once the child finishes it backs away from its masterpiece, and Link goes to crouch before it. Peering over his shoulder, I get a good look at the picture. "Is it just me, or does that look like Ghirahim?"

Link looks to the ratty, mutated child. "Did you see this person in the woods?" he interrogates. The Skull Kid quickly and eagerly nods the affirmative. "Is he here right now?" Another nod. Link beckons Skull Kid towards us. Still crouched, Link is eye level with the little terror. "Listen, Skull Kid. We really need your help on this part. We need to get out of these woods without being seen by any of those people. Do you understand?" After a moment, the kid nods its head again. "Are you willing to help us with that?" Skull Kid goes to agree, but then looks to me. It takes it a minute to overcome its hesitation, but it eventually relents to Link.

"Where are we going to go from here?"

Link shrugs. "I don't know. Kakariko, maybe? We just have to keep moving. Farore forbid we ever get caught by those men, I don't know what'll happen to us."

"Don't you think that's a bit risky? Kakariko is fairly big."

"Not tiny though," Link says, stretching back up to his full height. "I think it might be better if it's bigger. More places to hide."

Then he turns to Skull Kid. "Lead the way? Up north, towards the mountains."

Skull Kid bobs its head enthusiastically up and down before jetting off into the brush with Link and I hot on its heels. My feet scream with each step, and eventually, Link notices and stops. He hands me the duffel bag to carry on my shoulders. He carries me on his back, and we catch back up to Skull Kid who waits for us at the start of yet another dark tunnel.

"What is with this place?"

Link chortles. "Welcome to the Lost Woods."

We curve through so many clearings and tunnels, I start to lose track. Occasionally, the Skull Kid blows its horn, and the clacking of its puppets echoes in the woods. We enter one tunnel maze, and the further we go, the more something seems off. The wings give little flutters, and I say something to Link about it. "Are you sure?" he replies.

"I don't know what it is." So we continue on, and I try to ignore the flapping in my chest. The sense of wrongness is pervasive though, but when we say something to the Skull Kid, it makes no indication that it has heard anything we've said to it. It goes on its way, occasionally stopping for us to catch up or to look back to see if we're still following.

Link says to me, "I don't know if I can get us out of here if we don't follow him."

"This isn't right though."

When we come out from a tunnel, the Skull Kid is startled, and the wings start up in a frenzy. The Skull Kid freezes for a few seconds, then it shakes in its straw clothing. Wearing a dark uniform with his badge prominently displayed on his breast, an officer mutters some startled curses when he spots the three of us. The four of us stand, too stunned to do anything for a minute. Then Link bolts off, and I yelp, clinging to him in a death grip. Skull Kid takes off as well, and some distance behind us, I can hear him blow his horn again. The officer bellows after us. His voice carries through the trees, and I can hear more shouts begin to join his.

"If we can get to higher ground, we'll have better bearings of where we are, and maybe we can find our way to Death Mountain and Kakariko," Link tells me.

"You're absolutely insane!"

My heart pumps away with wild abandon in my ears. I barely hear Link yell back, "It's the best chance we got!"

Link veers off towards the right, and that's when I can feel the fluttering grow more frantic. The right wing is off beat from the left, and I know I need to stop Link somehow, so I start to wiggle. "Let me down!" I screech.

"Zelda!" he hisses, but I don't relent. "Stop!" He finally drops me, and I start to sprint for the opposite direction, hoping that he'll follow.

While he does just as I hope, we aren't fast enough. I can hear the thunder of feet right behind us. Adrenaline fuels my muscles and veins, and I don't dare look behind me. I can sense Link behind me as well. His footfalls are faster, and he's soon in step with me, but he doesn't leave me behind.

And that's when the first ball of fire whizzes between us. I shriek and dart off to the right, and Link quickly follows. One of them knows magic. Link snakes a hand onto my arm and pulls me to the side. Instead of me being roasted, a nearby bush ignites in flames. Like mice trapped in a maze, Link and I skitter in one direction, and then the opposite as we try to outrun the flames and the group of officers closing in behind us. Officers meet us head on, and our shoes scrape at dirt when we finally come to a halt. I'm out of breath, my lungs burning, while Link takes in the situation around us.

I look inward. The vines are overgrown masses around my magical core. They wind their way around my core, weaving in and out of each other in a hold of organic strength. I feel as though I'm about to be sick, and the vines grip a little tighter onto me. The wings stretch to their full span, leathery feathers rippling.

One of the officers has a Lens pointed right at us. His eyes are wide like marble shooters, and his jaw is slightly slacked as he looks through the Lens at Link and I. "What in the-?" He sputters some when he tries to speak at first, but then the order comes out, clear and precise, "Take them out!" The squad surges forward, and Link calls out my name, but all I can see is that man and the Lens in his hand.

The leathery wings slow their beating. Each flap of the wings is slow as pulling taffy. The moving squad approaches as if they were running through the deep end of a swimming pool. Their movements become so painfully slow in my peripheral vision.

One pulse.

"Zelda!"

Two.

"What're you doing?!"

Three.

The Lens shatters. Fragments of the tinted glass are blasted from the frame. One of the officers tries to throw another round of fire at us, but in the blink of an eye, it's deflected back at the squad who have halted their advanced.

My nerves tingle with electricity, and my body feels hot with power. Another pulse bolts through my muscles, veins and nerves.

Another order is shouted. I send out pulses of golden waves out at the oncoming officers. As much as will for them to be pushed back, a few manage to push through my magic. Link grabs hold of my arm to try and pull me out of the way, but I still end up getting tackled to the ground. Link tries to pull me away as I wrestle with the man, but he becomes preoccupied when two more attempt to take him down. I scrape at my assailant, trying to claw at his eyes. Stars burst out in my vision when his fist strikes me in the head. My vision swimming, I do whatever I can to keep moving, keep squirming and to not get trapped. The beating fills my ears, and I feel my magic pushing at the constraints of my core. My chest tightens, and my skin prickles. The uniformed man is blasted from me when I send out electric shocks.

I scramble to my feet. I'm only slightly aware that I'm not in control anymore as I watch Link throw a man from him as if he were nothing more than rags. I pummel right into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He tries to fight me off at first, not realizing who I am, before I send us both to plummet into a negative white space. It's almost as though we get carried through on a drift of wind like we are nothing more than paper bags. In one moment, there's nothing but the white, and in the next I'm still in the middle of throwing myself at Link, but we are no longer in the woods.

I yelp when he lands funny on my wrist, and the pain rockets through my arm. Link hastily untangles himself. "Sorry, sorry!" he says getting to his feet.

Dusty earth gets in my face as I roll onto my back. Grey sky meets my eyes, and there's nothing to obscure it. Link's head looks all around us. "Zelda, what did you _do_?"

"I don't- I don't know."

Link helps me up, and I take in our surroundings. I've only been to this place a couple times in my life, but I know it well enough.

By some act of the Goddesses, I'd teleported the two of us to the outskirts of Kakariko.

**…**

Birds chirp from the rooftops, and dust rolls across the dry streets. We were able to get a room at one of the inns in town, and after stuffing my stomach as much as I could, I slept clear through for almost a day. Link got me some ice to try and keep the swelling of my eye down, and I've had the bag stuck to my face since. But despite the cooling weather elsewhere, heat from Death Mountain is still pooling over the town, and so my ice pack is now a slinky bag of cool water on my face as Link and I stroll down the main street.

"Link, can we spare a few cents?"

He digs into his pockets, saying, "I guess. How much you need?"

"Fifty, but I don't think I'm going to use it all. Just in case."

"Aigh'." He hands me a few coins, and then he pulls the duffel from his shoulders. "I'm going over to that junkyard. Take the bag with you, okay?" He holds out the duffel and I take it from him, slipping over one shoulder before we go our separate ways.

I walk a few blocks over to the train station, figuring that there ought to be some long distance booths there. Despite autumn having already settled in and the building's tall ceilings, the place is hot as people move about, waiting for tickets and trains and to greet passengers as they disembark. My shoes clack across the marbled floors as I hurry to snag one of the phone booths. I drop the duffel on the booth's floor, and then I shut and lock the sliding door once I step it. Plopping into the tiny seat, I toss in a coin and then have the operator patch me through.

Slightly garbled, the voice is still familiar, and my stomach gives a small lurch. "Hello?"

"Ruto! It's me-"

"Zelda? Oh my goddesses! You're not calling me from jail are you?" she babbles. "My daddy knows this really good lawyer-"

"No! No no no!" I hastily cut in. "It's nothing like that."

"Oh. Are you well?"

"As of right now, I'm fine, yes."

Ruto sighs on the other end of the connection. "That's good," she breathes. Her tone takes a quick harsh tone, however. "You know you're fired, right?"

"I… kind of guessed. Yes."

"What happened? You just stopped showing up!" she demands. I can almost see the spit flying from her angry lips. "You know they went ahead and promoted that little bitch weasel Aba?"

"Ruto."

"You know the one that makes those stupid 'you're gonna die' jokes? Nayru! Why did you have to leave?"

"Ruto!"

"What?"

"Please," I beg, "I need you to listen for a second! I'm sorry, I never called sooner, but what happened to that carnival that was in between town and Lon Lon Ranch?"

"Oh, are you talking about the one that burned down?"

"Yes!"

"Oooh." I'm sure there's an eye roll to accompany that. "Yeah, apparently this guy that was running was trying for some fraud or something, so he burned the place down. I think he died though. Kind of a waste. Aren't you keeping up with the news _at all_? Where are you? The boondocks?"

"Wait, they're saying the carnies purposely burned it down?"

"Well, yeah."

I groan. "Is there anything still left out there at all?"

"I don't know." And the attitude was back. Good ol' Ruto. "I don't drive that way.

"Where are you by the way?"

"I can't tell you that, Ruto. I'm sorry. And I can't really tell you what's happening either, but I was at that carnival the night it burned down."

"Why not?" she whines, and I have to resist the urge to blurt out that she's the biggest gossip that I've ever met.

"I'd be up shit creek, and you wouldn't believe it anyway," I say taking a glance over my shoulder to see if anyone was waiting for the booth. I see people buzzing by like busy bees, but nothing else. The receiver's cord twiddles in my fingers.

Ruto huffs. "Fine! Be that way."

"Ruto-" I try, but the sudden loud growl from my stomach sounds.

"Farore, what was that?"

"My stomach. I'm pretty hungry… I guess."

"You guess?" she spits with incredulousness. "What have you been doing, Zelda?"

"Scraping by."

She sighs. "Tell me where you are. I can wire you some money, if you need it."

"Ruto, I can't let you do that!"

"Oh, come on, Zelda. I don't even really need this stupid job. It's all chump change," she insists. "I can get you money this time, but Daddy has been complaining about some sort of recession and he-"

"The economy has been in the dumps for a while, Ruto."

"Look, just tell me where you are, and I can help you a little bit."

"I didn't call to ask for money."

"Zelda, shut up."

**…**

"HOY!" Some of the birds resting atop of the building are rattled by the shout. Old cars sit, half torn apart for any usable parts. Metal signs are laid up against various objects, such as rusted bicycles or broken gas pumps. Link stands on a worn out porch. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows with one hand in his pocket. The other hand waves at me, and that stupid grin is on his face. Anyone else would think him crazy for being outside in such chill as another breeze comes by and whips his blond hair. From the decrepit house walks out another man dressed in flannel and overalls covered in dirt and grease. I can almost see Professor Mizuumi in him with the way his spectacles have widened his eyes in a similar likeness to the goggle-wearing scientist. "Zellie!" Link shouts again, and I hurry over to Link and the man. "Come here!

"Meet an old buddy of mine and Darunia's," he says and gestures to the man. Instead of holding out his hand to meet mine, he plants his gloved hands on his ill-defined waist. A filthy rag hangs from the leg pocket of his denim overalls. His moustache twists some as he looks me over, and I retract my hand. "This is Barnes. He was one of the foremen in bomb manufacturing back in the war."

One caterpillar of an eyebrow cocks as he turns away from me. "She looks too young to remember the war days," he scoffs as he slaps his pot belly. What does he take me for? A child?

I clear my throat and say, "No, I remember them quite well, thanks."

"This girl wouldn't know rationing if it bit her on the ass," Barnes mutters to Link, who instead of saying anything, simply gives me an apologetic look and a shrug. Some help.

I choose ignore Barnes for the moment, and instead I turn to Link. "I spoke with Ruto. You remember her, right?" Not bothering to hide his disinterest, Barnes steps off of the paint peeling porch and wanders away into his collection of what looks like pure junk on first glance.

Link leans on the column as he thinks it over. "The Zora girl, yes?"

"Yeah! She's going to wire us some money," I say. "She insisted on it."

"Well, aren't we lucky?" he muses. "Quite generous of her.

"Look what I scavenged though!" he pipes, and then he bends down to a box.

I come closer as he undoes the clasps. "An accordion?" But he only chuckles some and pulls out the instrument. The ivory keys and buttons have yellowed some in their age, but it's a nice, pearly garnet color. I ask, a little skeptical, "Does it even play?"

"As far as I know, none of the reeds have been damaged," Link says and slips the straps on.

"Never took you for an accordion player."

He laughs. "I travelled with the Evelyn sisters, remember? I know a little of this and that from them. See?" When he pulls the bass out, the claret accordion begins to sing in its many harmonizing voices. The piano keys play out the melody, and Link tells me as he flips a switch right next to the keyboard. "The voices are all working though." The accordion's treble sings in a few different pitches in perfect harmony.

He leans in towards me. "Don't mind Barnes; he's actually a bit of a wimp on the inside," he whispers to me, and I laugh a little.

"Sure."

"Try not to tinker with his stuff though. It drives him absolutely mad." I look towards the grubby man pulling apart one of the old cars for a part. Link plays a slow, leaping drone on the accordion before letting a couple of chords ring out as the bellows continue to pump air to keep the notes regenerating. Barnes swears and shakes out his hand, and then he dives back into the car's engine cavity. His hollered curses are drowned out when Link begins to play a swaying melody where I feel a hint of solemnity poke through.

"Link," I say finally. Link doesn't stop playing, and his eyes are set on the large, looming Death Mountain. He seems to be less livelier than ever. His hair more fake, his eyes glassier. Even his skin looks more rubberish, like something off of a children's toy. I put my hand on his left arm to try and stop it from pumping the accordion's bellows, knowing there is no way for him to feel that my hand is there. The mechanical man is much stronger than I am, and so the accordion wails on. "Link, please," I say again, but he won't look at me. "We need to talk. I can't do this anymore."

* * *

><p>Firstly, I try to reply to people when they review, but if I didn't get to you, I'm sorry! I really do appreciate all your comments guys. It makes it worthwhile to know that there are people reading and enjoying the story, so I'm always glad to hear from you guys.<p>

Holy crap, I have been so buseeee! I've been wanting to move back home for a couple of years now, and I finally got the chance to do it, so I'm gonna do it! The first thing I do when I get back to Chicago, I decided, was get some Portillo's. I cannot express how much I miss Chicago junkfood. But damn, do I want some good hotdogs - hotdogs that I don't have load up on condiments to enjoy. Sorry South, you just can't make 'em good.

But yeah. I've been planning on picking up the trailer and then moving out the next day, so that's the twenty-first. I still have a lot of stuff to pack/get rid of and holy shit that's two weeks away-


	12. It's a Glorious Day When Morning Comes

Coin-Operated

12.0

It's a Glorious Day When Morning Comes

Barnes let Link keep the old, discarded accordion, and Ruto's monetary gift afforded us some time at an inn close to Kakariko's outskirts along the plains. When I peel back the curtain and peer out the window, I see Link down the block with the accordion in his hands and chatting up some of the locals. The accordion's worn leather case sits open at his feet with seed money and tips. Just as well. He's been avoiding addressing my growing doubts at every turn. I tug the curtains back closed, blocking out most of the sunlight and shrouded the room in darkness. I clamber back onto the bed and settle myself back on the hotel bed.

I'm not sure how I did it, but I'd somehow managed to throw us from Faron Province into Eldin. In examining my core, nothing seems out of place or strange, but I have to wonder if this is a component of the gold magic. With no answers coming to me, I've since given up on trying to follow that train of thought and instead have taken to trying to replicate the magic I produced in the woods, a feat which has proven so far to be frustrating. "Magic is intuitive," Link had said, "so it works at its best without conscious effort." I've been determined though to try and fully tap into the new magic in the days that have passed since the attack in the woods. Apart from toying with it to pass time every now and then, it has been resting untouched since the wrangling.

I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath. The air flies through my nostrils, puffs up in my lungs and swirls until my chest constricts, and it's pushed back out through my mouth. With each breath, my muscles loosen a little more. First my toes, then the feet, calves, thighs. I continue this systematic release until even the facial muscles let go. The tips of my fingers hum with energy. Slowly, I will threads of magic out from my core and to my fingers. I can feel the magic's wispy fingers trying to spread out and probe the air around my hands. I manage to send the gold magic outwards a foot and a half… maybe two before the strain on my core is just too much. It thumps feebly at the exercise, constricted and tight within me, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot fully relax. The gold magic rushes back into me, and my core swells up in relief. I'm left gasping for breath.

I lay in the hotel room, just taking in all the sounds around me as my breathing returns to normal and my heartbeat falls to rest. The annoying dribble of the bathroom faucet leaking pounds in my ears. Crunchy grind of rubber tires on asphalt on the street outside. People's chatter drifts in and out in dizzying waves. Somewhere through all this white noise is that throaty accordion wailing away on a street corner.

I attempted to go to the library the day before to no avail. I'm not quite sure what I was expecting; I wasn't even able to gather the courage to even choke out a request to one of the clerks. Up and down aisles, I wandered. My fingers occasionally grazed the spines of the old books. I don't know what I expected; it should be quite understandable that there be nothing left in the library that so much as mentions magic. Even if it is a simple children's fairy tale. Everything is gone. After the magic ban, they'd held a book burning. The roar of the bonfire cackled through the radio waves and into my ears. I'm not sure what I expected. There's no hidden code or secret.

Maybe a part of me just wanted time alone.

Although I currently have my solitude, it is nothing like the comfort of lazing in Ordona's domain as the golden goat grazed by my side.

This thought jolts me up from the bed. Perhaps now is the time? Would I receive an answer finally? Something intuitively tells me that this true, and that I need to go.

I fumble with my shoes before scurrying out the door, my sweater half on. Flying out of the hotel, I barely cast the passing traffic a glance. I don't even flinch when a motorist slams on their brakes, mere inches from slamming into me. The driver shouts profanity at me from his open window, but I pay him no heed as I storm down the block my gut leading me on. "Zelda?" Link calls, but I don't even look at him once as I pass by.

Kakariko has changed since I last visited when I was young. More business have come and gone, and now empty storefronts decorate the streets. More houses have been built up, fleshing out the once fledgling neighborhoods. I take a few wrong turns here and there while I try to keep a grip on my bearings in the new constructed jungle, but my instincts tingle and help direct me where I need to go. Eventually I come towards the town's outskirts to a park where the field grass still clings on desperately. The small pond has become a popular spot for children to play since I was small, but not much else about it has changed. The water remains clear as ever, the red, muddy clay as visible as I remember through the liquid. A few children are racing boats across the pond's surface.

I settle myself in at the pond's edge after removing my shoes. The water is warm and inviting against my skin. It doesn't put off the steamy heat like the mountain's hot springs, but it's warm enough to fight off the growing cold days engulfing Kakariko. Here and there the volatile mountain sends heat our way, but soon it, too, will grow weary with winter.

The children laugh and play as if I don't even exist in their imaginary worlds until they check the time and find that they'll be late for dinner. Their feet patter away from the pond, now empty of any toys, as they race home before their mothers chastise them too much. The time I spend at the water's edge seems insignificant almost, so I do not keep track of how long I lie here. My toes prune and shrivel from the water, but I still do not move them.

In fact, I don't move at all until after the night has settled and the park has been abandoned and closed for the day. It flutters to a rest on my forehead. With my vision skewed by the angle and the shock of light in the darkness, I don't get a good glimpse of the creature basking me with otherworldly glow. It pecks curiously at my nose, and that's when I sit up, swiping at it. The large hawk skims the water's surface, sending ripples across the pond. It circles me until I raise up my arm where it settles down. It digs with its beak at the feathers on its chest and doesn't acknowledge me further for a period of time.

"And what do I call you?" I ask the hawk.

The golden bird ruffles its feathers and stamps its feet a little. Although its golden eyes aren't conspicuous amongst the feathers, I can feel them trained on me. The bird studies me for a period of time before answering me. "I am the guardian Eldin."

"I have spoken with your brethren," I say, "and have had my inquiries deflected."

The great hawk replies smartly to me, "There are answers which you are not privileged to know at this time."

I groan and drop my arm. As I pull my feet out of the water, the guardian settles itself on my shoulder. "You're quite small compared to your brethren."

"Times have changed," the hawk clicks. "A bird of abnormal size is one easily spotted. I do not need any being to fruitlessly seek me out.

"You may ask away," Eldin nudges before I can comment on its golden coloring, "but I cannot guarantee answers."

"Of course," I say with bitter. Eldin shakes itself once more, and its talons painfully grip my shoulder through the sweater. The sharpness in my shoulder is acute, and I try to formulate my thoughts while the hawk stands by with idle.

"I'm trying to comprehend this new magic of mine," I tell the bird. Thinking of the country wide book burnings, I say, "My resources have been lacking though." From my peripheral, I see the hawk nod. "I've somehow managed to not only teleport myself, but my friend with me from the Lost Woods. We were being cornered by a squad, and the magic essentially attacked back on its own in ways that I've never seen or even attempted before."

"You understand that your magic is not of this time, correct?"

"I do."

"That magic is far older than me or my brethren," the golden hawk informs me. "As it stands right now, you are not in a position to consciously wield it. It is instinctive at this time." Not the answer that I want to hear, but I appreciate the guardian Eldin's frankness. It nibbles at its wing, before its alert eyes draw back to our surroundings. Eldin takes in the area with sharp focus and jerky movements. "There's a spell honed by your predecessors called Farore's Wind that allows the caster to warp; I believe this is what allowed you to escape the Lost Woods."

"_My _predecessors?" This is the first I'm hearing of this.

Eldin nips my ear and cocks its head. "Yes," is its short reply.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Your magic is not wholly yours. It has been wielded through the ages by others with suitable qualities."

I press, "Like who?"

"The more notable would be the daughters of de Hyrule and Harkinian. Even your current family line has had some competency with it."

A though a lead weight drops in my stomach, I stumble to my feet. Eldin stays planted to my shoulder despite my jostling as I get my shoes back on. "I'm sorry, I have to go," I say to the guardian as I straighten up. Nausea swims in my stomach, churning the liquid bile.

The hawk merely blinks once, and replies, "Of course. Feel free to visit as you please. Until next time." It flutters up from my shoulder, and then with great strides of its wings, Eldin skims the pond before diving into its depths.

**…**

Once the sickness had subsided some the next day, I headed for the library where I now sit with books spread haphazardly across the table in front of me. Of course there's nothing here worthwhile about magic anymore, but at the very least, history itself hasn't been declared to be some form of legal blasphemy. It has taken hours and hours to gather the remaining records of the House of Harkinian. As Link had said, the House of Harkinian's claim to the Hylian throne ends with the Princess Zelda of his time. He was also correct that her fame was quite small in comparison to some of her other ancestors. She is recognized and praised for being as the first official female knight, but nothing is really mentioned. While other women had come before her, their true gender was not made public, and this new feministic stride is attributed to Princess Zelda.

Link's brother, Sir Raven Coutts of Ordon, crops up here and there. Texts depict him as some valiant knight of progress in his work for the King's Horos who took a wife after the Harkinian line ended, but all I can think of is the sharp, needling reminder of his betrayal of Link. What few drawings there are of him spread out in the books do not show the utter malice in his eyes that he had when he and Link came to blows. His face is stoic, hard. The impenetrable knight.

Even my own family's ancient history pops up, but nothing is really mentioned about them during the Princess Zelda's time.

Although I can't completely follow who's who within the records, I try my best to map out a crude family tree from the information gathered. The further along I get, the queasier I become, and I end up ripping the paper I had scrawled the tree on to shreds. My stomach sits with a foul weight in it. Fuzziness begins to intrude on my mind, and I have to read a sentence at least three times before it begins to sink in and process in my brain.

"Miss? Are you alright?"

My head snaps up to a man a few years my senior studying me with concern. "I'm sorry what?" I babble back to him.

"Are you alright?" he repeats. He pushes the spectacles on his nose up a little further. "You're very pale."

I stutter out, "I'm fine, thank you."

His eyes flick to my research. "The Harkinians?" he ponders. "You know, when a new family was to succeed the throne, there was quite a squabble for it."

I'm almost afraid to ask, but my need outweighs the fear. "Between who?"

"De Hyrule obviously won the succession, as their line previously was on the throne, but the Coutts and Nohansens challenged them. They claimed to be more directly related to the Harkinian family of the time- are you sure you're fine, miss?"

"I…" I want to vomit in reality, my stomach churning and ready to reject the bile, but I don't dare say anything. "I'm fine. I think I just ate something bad earlier is all. It should pass soon enough."

The man nods and then glances at the seat across the table from me. "May I?" I gesture at it, and he slides the chair out. "My name is Shad," he says, settling himself and pushes his glasses up again with one hand and holding out the other.

"Zelda."

"If you don't mind my asking, what's your interest in the Harkinians?"

I shrug. "I've heard some conflicting things about them and just wanted to see what was what. How do you know about all of this?"

"I'm a bit of a scholar, you see. I pride myself in understanding the details of the Hylian monarchy in particular," he says. There's a spark in his eyes as he speaks to me. "There's an old legend that states that the original monarchy that established Hyrule descended from the sky!" The sky. Right. Although I've seen with my own eyes things that are just as preposterous. "It's thought that a race of people lived above the clouds on islands with great birds as their mounts, but not all migrated to the surface world-"

"H-how… um. How did you say the Coutts and Nohansens were related to the Harkinians?" I interrupt the chatty scholar.

Shad nods with vigor a few times. "Well, it wasn't all that uncommon for adultery to take place during that time, despite religious uproar against it. Noblemen often took mistresses, and this was seen to be tolerable as adultery was defined only to be a wife with extramarital affairs," Shad explains. "The Coutts tried to lay claim to the Hylian throne by claiming rights to royal bastards, despite them never being recognized legitimately by any of the Harkinian monarchs."

"Was the recognition why the Coutts didn't succeed?"

Shad bobs his head in the affirmative. "That is indeed exactly why," he says quickly. The words tumble from his mouth in an excited wave. "They held no true claim to the throne. De Hyrule, however, was traced as the successor due to previously being on the throne. The Harkinians gained control of the monarchy after marrying a son into the de Hyrule family and his son took succession and so on. But claims of unrecognized royal bastards weren't the only thing they tried to use.

"See, the Coutts had supposedly married generations back into the Nohansen line, which was tied to the monarchy through marriage… quite the conundrum, I know. They'd been aggressive about trying to seize the Hylian monarchy with the Nohansens since the last Queen Zelda of the Harkinian line was still a princess. After her death, they quickly had arranged a marriage to try and better secure their claim." The mere mention of this sends a tidal wave through my abdomen, and I feel myself pale a little more. My limbs start to shake minutely. Shad, however, seems lost in his own world of history and continues to carry on as if his words hold no weight at all. "Their claims to the throne through marriage, however, were more distant than de Hyrule, and so they tried to take it by force. Later attempts at assassinating the de Hyrule heirs landed them on the chopping blocks, and… are you absolutely sure you're well?"

**…**

I storm into the room at the inn. Link, who is bent over on the other side of the bed fiddling with what I assume is the accordion case, straightens up to greet me, and says, "_There_ you are. I was beginning to worry something might have happened to you." As he comes around from the bed with a newspaper in hand, he asks me with a rush, "Where have you been? I haven't even so much glimpsed you since yesterday."

Although he speaks calmly to me, it does nothing to assuage the rapid rage building inside of me. It burns in my chest, and I can feel a tingling in my fingertips hot like coals. My breathing is heavy as if to fuel oxygen to the furnace of anger within me. "You _lied_ to me!" I roar, advancing on the mechanical abomination and swiping the paper from his hand.

"What're you talking about?"

"Out of your own mouth you have told me that no one succeeded her!" Confusion quickly makes way recognition, and Link opens his mouth to respond. I don't give him a chance. The new knowledge I am now armed with festers the wounds, and my hands wring the newspaper. "I have _seen _it!" I throw at Link, whose shock is evident on his face. "In your memories, I have seen it before!"

"Zelda, what're you so concerned about?" he snaps. "None of that really matters!"

"But it does, Link!" I wail. "I watched you willingly throw your own flesh and blood into a fire to burn to nothing!"

Any restraint Link has is snapped in an instant at this accusatory comment. "You know nothing about that." His synthetic voice is low, intimidating and dangerous, but I push right back as any fear that I could feel is masked by my own fury.

"How many more?" I spit.

There's a brief reprieve in which he merely stares at me wide-eyed. Then he blinks. His laugh is sharp and condescending. "What do you take me for? I lived in a time where magic was at its height. Science and medicine afforded no explanations! Good Din, Zelda. This was an age where it was blasphemous to think that maybe drink had something to do with a child's deformities rather than a curse or consulting with the devil. What do you think would have happened? A stillborn child isn't the result of some medical cause, but the result of fraternizing with demons.

"Zelda, just imagine for a second the kind of religious outrage that would have followed if it was found that the princess gave birth to a stillborn son. These weren't people with a rational like yours. These were people fanatic that the Golden Goddesses were doling out punishment for sins committed should something go wrong."

"You didn't have to burn him."

"I did though," he growls. "You're fooling yourself if you think for just a moment I wanted to, but no one could know. Ashes would just be ashes. A buried skeleton would have a story to tell."

"What about the others?" I seethe. "I need to know, Link."

"There were no others."

A harsh silence washes over us. Neither of dare take our eyes of the other, and both of us cold and unforgiving. There's a prickling in my skin as Link stares me down, and I see something I wouldn't expect in those glass eyes of his. Instead of just seeing myself reflected back against the shiny surfaces, I see the bristling accusations. His mouth is set into a hard, thin frown, and a part of me starts to wonder if maybe his removal from the carnival didn't make him less human, but more so. Minutes tick by until Link's expression softens, a realization dawning over him. His shoulders slump a little as his anger deflates like a balloon leaking air through a hole. Even his eyes lose that venomous luster. Link tries to speak, and before I can even cut him off again there's a scathing heat racing across my palms.

I yelp and drop the newspaper in shock as golden flames lick away at it. "Oh Goddesses!" I sputter, backing away from the burning paper. What is _wrong_ with me? Link calls out my name, and I bolt from the room.

Down the stairs and out the inn's lobby, my sudden flight startles the employee at the front desk. The buildings of Kakariko fly by as I hurry down the town's dusty streets. Posted at the park entrances are signs stating that the park closes come sundown, but I ignore them and hurl myself over the gates and into the park. The croaking of frogs is the only chorus in the air as I approach the pond, and I wonder briefly how much longer the amphibians will stay with winter coming in a couple of months. Little splashes sound out as the frogs escape into the pond's water and my eyes search for any hint of the spirit that resides here.

It flies up behind me, the flapping of its wings alerting me. I turn and greet the light spirit. Eldin circles around me until I offer up my arm. The bird casts a glance up and down my form. "You are not too cold?" the spirit asks. "The weather has been tumultuous lately though, hasn't it?"

"I am not here to make small talk," I tell the golden hawk.

Eldin cocks its head to one side. "Oh?"

"I set a newspaper on fire."

The hawk straightens itself out, ruffling its feathers some. The slight disturbance in the bird's coloring tells me of the few rapid blinks. "I see," Eldin says. "Fire is not a force which you are used to manipulating, correct?"

I shake my head with vigor as I reject the question. "Forget manipulation!" I cry, jostling the hawk a little. I take a deep breath, and then say in a hushed exclamation, "It was like the paper spontaneously combusted!"

The hawk nods in acknowledgement, but Eldin then changes the subject. "You've studied up, I would assume, on the information that I have provided you with on your last visit?"

"I can't really." I explain the issues of the missing materials from the library. "I did however, try and get info on the Harkinians."

"Find something interesting?"

"I met a scholar who told me the Coutts of Ordon were after the throne after the Harkinian line died out."

Eldin shuffles its feet, scooting itself further up my arm. The golden hawk leans in as if to whisper to me a secret. "Tell me," it says, fluffing its wings. "Do you truly know the depths of their lust for power?" When I tell the spirit how I have seen them sacrifice their own sons in their quest, the hawk shakes its head. "That is like diving a mere few feet down in that ocean of conniving wickedness."

The golden hawk Eldin closes the distance between us and pecks harshly at my forehead.

**…**

Dark circles ring under his eyes where little bags hang. The healthy tanned complexion from days under the sun Link once had has faded to a sickly white as he looks out the window. A mere ghost of his former self. The clothing he wears is simple and slightly baggy on him. No green tunic, no chainmail, no weapons, just an ill-fitting shirt, pants and plain tunic adorn him, and I wonder if maybe the bag is from lost weight; his boyish features have sharpened, likening him more as a mirror image to his older brother. Even his hair has lost its healthy, oily sheen, and despite the sunshine pooling into the room, it hangs around his face like dull, stiff straw. Link chews his bottom lip, the only spot on his wane figure with a little flush of life, as he looks out into the castle courtyard.

Sun bathes the magnificent courtyard. Stone pillars of grandeur bear the weight of a covered walkway. From where Link and I stand at the window, three entrances from the castle in the walkway are visible. The courtyard has been meticulously maintained with careful fingers, as there is not one spot between the grout of the stonework where weeds try to stubbornly sprout. The flowerbeds are well manicured, as expected, and tastefully designed so that the colors complement one another with grace. From below the window and out from the covered walkway comes a nobleman; it is clear that his tunic is made from rich fabrics. His leather slippers pad the stone with slow and careful steps. The nobleman barely glances up from the book in his hand as he walks.

Like a tidal wave, men pool out from the entrance across the courtyard. They storm in from the sides, and even from where the nobleman entered. It's easy to assume that from their dress, these men, too, are of a high class. Some have swords drawn already; others have their hands on the hilts, ready to arm themselves at any given moment. Maybe twenty or so of them flood the courtyard, as the nobleman with the book looks about him with frantic, wild movements as if he were nothing but a trapped animal looking for escape. The men surrounding him advance on him further, and the nobleman drops his book with shaky hands as he's circled by the sharks.

The claret liquid bursts from the man's chest and stains the rich tunic. From our vantage point, even the scarlet dribbling from his mouth is in clear view. The nobleman stays standing, speared on swords like an olive. Swords slowly withdraw from the nobleman, and as the sharks back away, he tumbles onto the white stone of the courtyard. The sharks sheath their swords and slip back into the castle without further incident. The red under the fallen nobleman blooms and creeps across the stone with clawing fingers. All Link does is heave a weighty sigh and turn away from the sight.

Only to have his eyes fall on a stained scaffold. A block of waxed wood sits at the center of the scaffold. He sits on a high dais alongside other nobles where they can overlook the scaffold and the surrounding crowd. The crowd is eager as they shout out their lust and calls for justice, but Link does not share in their revelry. Instead he looks just as wane as before with a gauntness to his sinking features. Next to him is a woman with auburn hair. She fans herself idly with one hand, the other on her protruding belly. On her other side, Link's older brother Raven, who is mostly unchanged, snorts, and Link shoots him a glare. A squire approaches the brothers, and the young man stutters a little before swallowing at Sir Raven's sharp bark. "Sir Link," he addresses, "the king requests your presence."

Hollowed eyes settle on the young squire. "I will come shortly," he tells the boy with gentle assurance.

The squire nods. "Yes milord," he says, and then he spins on his heel and shuffles away. He stumbles a little when his slipper catches on a protruding nail.

Link looks down and wiggles his feet inside his boots.

"Are you going to go, Brother?"

The younger knight rises from his seat without replying to Sir Raven. I trail along behind Link as he weaves through with ease the many nobles craning their necks for a better view. Some of the women giggles and whisper gossip among them. Some of the nobles' faces are blurred or there's nothing there at all, but others are clear and in sharp focus. Their eyes follow the knight in green as he makes his way. Their conversations fall short as he passes, and then pick up again with urgency as soon as they think he's out of ear shot. Their hushed conversations are heard, but not important as their speech blends and slurs among one another.

The new king is seated on a simple throne. When Link approaches, he gives the king a polite bow and greeting. "Good day, Your Majesty."

The king's face brightens when he sees Link. "Come, sit with me," the king invites with a wave of his hand. Link's eyes drift with hesitation to the empty seat next to the king but does not question it. With a controlled breath, he seats himself. "I am glad you are here," the king tells Link. "Although I am sure this is not a day of entertainment for you." The king looks out on the crowd, a small smile on his face as he looks on at the eager crowd. No sign of clemency from the King of Hyrule is to be found.

Link looks over to the king. Slightly overweight with pepper hair and beard, the king has seen many years. The weight of which, has clearly never bore down him. Link's haggard complexion is a stark contrast. With a raspy, croaked voice, Link replies, "It is what must be done and something I have long foreseen, Sire, but all the same, yes, there is no entertainment or joy for me to find."

"Her Majesty was always quite fond of you," the king comments, reminiscing about the late Zelda. "She trusted you when she could no other."

"Sire?"

The king turns to Link. His expression is grave and serious with hardened eyes. "It is my hope, Sir Link," says the king softly, "that we, too, may become trusted confidants. I have always thought your courage and honesty were admirable qualities."

"I am sorry to say that I am nothing more than a coward, Sire."

"Nonsense," dismisses the king. "After today, what could possibly ensnare you?" The king doesn't notice as he leans over to get the first glimpse of the people being guided up to the scaffold but Link's eyes flick down the dais to his brother.

On the scaffold stands a man donned in orange and red robes. His snow white hair is blinding under the morning sun, and the crowd settles down as the first of the group brought out comes up the scaffold and to the man. The first is the man I recall Sir Raven referring to as his and Link's uncle. He turns to the robed man, and words are passed between them. The robed man traces a triangle over the uncle's chest and bows his head. A hush falls over the dais and the crowd as Link's uncle kneels at the block, and a hooded man steps up, axe in hand. There is only the sunlight, the blue, blue, blue sky with cotton clouds and the soft singing of birds when Link's uncle clutches the block between his hands.

Link's eyes squeeze shut, but the dull thump on wood rings through the black world. The executioner is sloppy though, and the sound reverberates through the darkness once more. A third time, the executioner must raise his axe. The odd, domestic thump of blade on wood as evidence, and when Link's eyes open, all that remains on the wooden block is a strange stump of a neck. A scarlet gush streams forth from the stump and stains the block with fresh blood. It splatters out onto the scaffold with thick droplets to meld in with the misted spray thrown from the executioner's axe. The head rolls across the scaffold, and the executioner stoops to retrieve it. He raises it high as the crowd caws out like crows at the sight. The executioner turns slowly on his feet to showcase the head clutched in his hand.

His uncle's body is carried off and the head taken away to be displayed on a pike as Link's mother steps forward. She gives no prayer to the large priest; she doesn't even acknowledge the potbellied man. Seeing that she will offer no final confession, the priest flies through motion of the triangle with thick fingers to her back as she strides over to the soggy block. She does not kneel or yield before it. Link's mother stands with determination, her head held high in arrogance. The sun shines on her golden hair and pale skin as she stands statue still. The executioner waits for her to move on her own, but he soon grows impatient and forces her down onto the wet, soppy block.

When Link closes his eyes, the world blinks out. The black engulfs everything in that tiny fraction of a second. And when he opens them again, a different time, a different place has taken over where the room is fairly small and cramped with bookshelves. Little light from the setting sun comes in from the window, so a fire provides most of the light in the room. A pair of plush armchairs sits close to the hearth but is unoccupied.

Link smiles a little at the flustered girl pacing back and forth in front of him. Her slippers skim the plush rug, and her dress puffs out with each quick step. She's dressed in a luxurious purple of a deep plum. Expensive. Entitled. Rare. She picks at the hood atop her head, causing little wisps of hair to loose themselves from the tight styling. "Your Highness," Link addresses. This is not the queen, but the princess. Young and vivacious, she is the lady knight. She turns on her feet to stare him down, but Link does not cower from her ferociousness. "You'll wear holes in the carpet." He holds out a slip of paper, which the princess swipes from him.

She spits, "Bother!" And the Princess Zelda goes back to her quick, tight pacing as the note in her hand begins to curl with flame.

"What has you so wound up?" Link laughs. He watches as little flecks of the note break off and pulse orange before charring black. "It's only been a week since we got back to court. Is it already so dreadful?"

"The food is nice. Some of the company is nice _enough_. But the public." She snorts and then even spits. Her spittle lands on the hearth of the crackling fire. She clutches what's left of the note in her hand, compressing it into a small ball. The whole thing lights up in a small fire before she tosses it into the hearth. "How do you smile in the face of such idiocy?"

"I heard Richard Percy has gotten his eye on you," Link teases the princess who rolls her eyes. "The note was his, but has he made any real moves yet?"

"Apart from following me like a dog?"

"Perhaps I should suggest he compose a song?"

At this, the princess cracks a smile. It stretches her lips, puffs her cheeks and even wrinkles the corner of her eyes, but her pacing does not cease. "Even the minstrels would have a hard time trying to parody _that_ mess." She wrinkles her nose in distaste.

Her feet draw up short in step, and she turns to look at Link with attention. "Do you hear what my maids have been saying?" she asks him to which Link just shakes his head. His shaggy locks fly about with the movement. "Oh, come on," the lady whines. "They've taken a fancy to you. Surely you've heard _something_?"

"Nothing."

She sighs and turns her back to Link. Her sight fixated on the fire, she clasps her hand behind her back where still nervous fingers wrangle one another. "I keep hearing whispers from them. They don't respect me," she mutters. She takes in Link's silence for a spell, and then she explains further. "They dislike my ways; they think me brutish for becoming a knight. Then being out in the field for so many months… so many years… 'She used to have skin like porcelain,' they sigh. Then they'll snigger to one another. 'Now look at her. She's too dark for lady's work.' My own ladies." The princess shrugs. "I'm beginning to believe maybe I did not think knighthood through."

"But you love it."

"I do, but it's obvious the people don't." She turns around with a deep frown etched into her lips. "How can I expect to lead when His Majesty passes when I can't even have the respect and support of the people closest to me?"

"You have mine. And I know the Duke of Ordon is fond of you; he hopes that we might be able to be stationed down there come the warmer months. His Grace Daphnes de Hyrule thinks highly of you as well," Link tells her. He pauses, and with a sly smile, he adds, "And I'm sure Richard Percy thinks the world of you," to which the lady knight giggles. "Why place so much weight on the buzzards of the court?"

"Unfortunately, buzzards are what make up the majority."

There's no time for a response from Link when a knock on the door announces a new guest. A feminine voice creeps through the wood, calling out for the Princess of Hyrule's attention. The princess snarls. "Can't even get ten minutes to myself." She turns to Link with a mischievous smile and asks, "How about some sport? We'll take the horses out." A breeze curls around the princess when Link gives a breathy laugh. She takes hold of his arm and whisks them away on her conjured wind as her name is called out again, this time with more urgency.

**…**

I'm on my back when I come back to the present, to Eldin, to Kakariko. To me. The light spirit is resting on my stomach. Its talons dig painfully through my clothing into the soft flesh of my stomach as it keeps its watchful eyes ever moving about our surroundings. Night is still upon the town, and from the ground, I can see the little twinkling dots of stars scattered about the sky. Hazy clouds sometimes drift past, blotting out the tiny lights.

"There is but one other thing that I can offer you," the light spirit tells me.

"And what's that?"

The hawk shakes its head. "Now is not the appropriate time. Consult with me when you are ready to move on."

I groan and lay my head back. "I _am_ ready. I'm tired of these games."

"This concerns your friend's current state of being," the hawk offers, trying to pique my interest.

"My companion wants nothing more than to keep me whistling in the dark."

The hawk contemplates this for a minute. "It is possible that in his mind, your ignorance will protect you from him." I snort. "Do not mistake his intentions. I'm sure you know full well your survival at this time hinges on him."

"I can get by fine in a city."

"What of the break-in in your apartment?" the golden hawk asks. It creeps a little further up my stomach. "There's much more than just keeping food in your stomach and place to shelter yourself at stake."

I don't admit it aloud, but the spirit Eldin is correct.

"I think I might seek out that scholar I met."

Eldin's feather rustle in the dark. "A wise course of action."

**…**

When I return to the inn the sounds of the wailing accordion drifts out from behind the door. I enter with lighter feet this time than last, and I shut the door behind me saying, "You'll drive the neighbors mad when it gets too late."

"A true casualty." But he squeezes the instrument closed, fastens it and sets it on the floor when I come and situate myself next to on the bed. Link and I face the window that looks out on the streets of Kakariko. Street lamps glow softly onto the emptiness.

"I met a man that I think might be helpful," I say. "His name was Shad; he seems to know a lot about the history of your time. He seems to be quite a knowledgeable man in many studies too; I could hardly stop him once I got him going on a subject."

Link smirks a little but says, "I know my own history, Zelda."

"Not yours, per say. I was thinking maybe there was something out there about the man that changed you. Malladus, right?"

"I wouldn't hold hope," he says gruffly.

I press, "It's worth a try." There's a few quick clicks of his eyelids shuttering closed before he gives a curt nod.

Minutes pass before he speaks again, and his voice becomes light and gentle. "You're no child of mine, Zelda."

"How are you so sure?"

"You believe my family wasn't ambitious enough to lie their way to power? My family's only claim to the Nohansens after the queen died was my brother's only child that didn't live long enough to make it out of his shortpants, and the Harkinian never even took a breath.

"History is never as concrete as we're lead to believe, Zelda."

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to believe.

* * *

><p>Poor Richard Percy. Not even actually <em>in<em> the story, yet he constantly gets ragged on. Anyway, longer chapter than usual, so I hope it was good/worth it/whatevs. Although I'm almost settled in from my move finally, I can't believe it, but my papers for my stories have totally vamoosed! I have no idea where they've gotten to. In fact, I have no idea why I don't even have a complete matching set of sheets! How do I not have any pillow cases?! But yeah. So I had to sit here and try and recreate the whole thing that I worked out with the lineage and throne succession, and I don't think it matches nor is it as good as what I had before, but maybe I was just glorifying what I had before. I can't tell with my notes MIA. Boo.

Probably the best welcome home I've gotten has been THE FREAKING BLACKHAWKS WINNING THE CUP! AAAAH! I'M SO EXCITED. Can't wait to go downtown for the parade Friday. It will be MAYHEM. Last night was crazy too! People were throwing up the guard rails and crowd surfing on them. Oma and I had some booze, and many screaming phone calls were made.

Also. Got job! I'm no baker, but I'll still be working with food. I'll be cooking at a local restaurant starting next week probably; which is excitiiing! Now all I gotta do is hopefully pass the damn emissions test to register my car.

Never moving again. There's just too freaking many things to deal with.

GO BLACKHAWKS!

:DDDD


	13. It's Cruel Times, That Keeps You so Far

Coin-Operated

13.0

It's Cruel Times, That Keeps You so Far

Tracking down Shad the scholar, whom I'd spoken to, proved to be of little difficulty, although it was time consuming. We'd even wasted some of this time trying to find something in the library on our own, and we have absolutely nothing to show for it. Unfortunately, time is something Link and I don't actually have; the money Ruto's sent isn't going to last much longer, even with the additional funds Link has earned busking, meaning it will be time for us to move on. Even if I truly do want to leave him and get myself out of this craziness, it appears as though I am tied to him through a red string of fate; even if I leave, I will be shadowed. Besides, it's not like I have anything to go back to. I cannot return to my flat, I fear I will put Malon and her ranch in danger if I go there, and I absolutely have no family left to turn to for shelter.

In some small part of my mind, I have to wonder if this is what the rest of my life will consist of. The pointless wandering and drifting will have its toll on me and what's between Link and me. There is no settling down in a quiet town; Link will never age. I, however, will. I will grow old. My skin will gain wrinkles, and my vision will blur. My hair will lose its lovely sheen and color. No longer will I be blonde in the future. I will grey; maybe even gain a few white hairs. Or maybe my hair will do just that, whiten to where there is not a hint of color left. My hearing will go, and I'll have to constantly ask Link to speak up. He will be just as strong, young and virile as the day I met him, but my bones will grow weak with age. My joints will creak, and no amount of oil will ease them like my mechanical companion.

But what comes after me then? What is Link supposed to do? Forever young, ageless in a chaotic time. Will he find another like me? Someone to confide his histories and secrets in? Or will none of this be in our future? With the times as they are, I have no guarantees, and neither does Link. It's possible that I won't even get the chance to grow old, or I might even just grow old by myself, alone.

I have to remind myself, that it's what is in the present that currently matters. Actions must be taken if I want any sort of future, so when I finally come across Shad at the entrance of the Kakariko Library, I flag him down. He looks between me and Link, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose as he studies us. "Do you not remember me?" I ask hesitantly, but Shad shakes his head.

"No, no. I remember. We had a very enlightening conversation," he says before holding out his hand for Link to take and introducing himself. I suppose that our "conversation" could be considered enlightening, but considering my lack of actual input, it was more of a lecture, a monologue, from Shad's end of things. "Is there something I can do for you, Miss Zelda?" He fiddles with his collar with one hand, his eyes flicking from me to Link.

I glance at Link, but he remains stoic, doll-like. The absence of expression in him is more unsettling than if he were to just outright glare at and Shad and me. Turning back, I tell Shad, "We were actually hoping that since you seem to know a great deal about the end of the House of Harkinian, if you might have ever heard of the name Malladus?"

Shad doesn't answer right away, and instead takes his time mulling it over. His brow furrows, and his mouth tightens. "I believe that I have; the name sounds familiar enough, but I'm afraid I can't quite place it," he finally admits, "I'm sorry to say.

"Was there any particular event or person he may have been tied to?"

Knowing this is something that I can't exactly answer, I turn to Link, whose expression has not changed in the slightest. He glances at me and shrugs. "He would have been around for the last king of the House of Harkinian."

We decide to start from there, but not even with Shad's help, can we find anything. While Link and I help Shad track down books and search through them in the library, but eventually, Link gives up. He didn't have much hope in our search to begin with, so he wanders away from us. Every few minutes or so, I'll catch a glimpse of him as he paces through the stacks and rows of books. Occasionally, he picks up a book or two and flips through them, but nothing seems to hold much interest to him.

Link's total lack of input dampens my own hope in finding something. The amount of useless information I've sifted through is taking its toll on my eyes. Shad sighs next to me, and mentions, "Who knows? Maybe what you're looking for has been destroyed." So Shad and I eventually call it quits as well.

When we go to leave, Shad asks, "If I do end up finding something, how should I contact you?"

Link and I hesitate to answer at first. I shake my head. "We appreciate you taking the time to try and help us, but I guess this is where we part. We're drifters, and I don't think we'll be staying here much longer."

Shad nods at this. He pushes his spectacles up a little. "It's sad times right now, that's for sure," he says quietly. "Especially for people like you." He nods at us, and self-consciously I fiddle with one long ear. "You best be careful," he warns and holds out a hand for us to take. "Link. Miss Zelda. If we meet again, it will be a pleasure."

Link and I wander down the old streets of Kakariko. I groan and cover my face with my hands. "DON'T."

Link laughs a little. "I didn't say anything."

I grumble some choice words as we stop at a corner, but Link pulls me to him. The edge of the coin box on his chest digs a little into my cheek. "Look, it was worth a try."

"Everything just ends up being a dead end."

"Then maybe it just isn't the right time. Everything is for a reason, right?" he says, and he nudges me a little.

"Let's get a drink."

Link lets me pull away, and we cross the street. His arm still remains around me when he tells me, "Let's get _you_ a drink."

"Let's get me a drink," I laugh.

"Or two."

"Or three!"

Link sighs. "I miss mead."

"Of all the things, mead?"

"Taste is a bit lost on me at this point," he chuckles. "There were always good times with mead though."

I tell him it wasn't just the mead, but he just laughs and shakes it off.

When we arrive at the bar, I get my drink and we hide away in a corner. Link continues to try and distract me from the day's adventures and asks me, "So, considering we're going to have to get a move on, where do you want to go now?"

"I don't even know."

"Well, just think about it, because we need to skip out in the next couple of days or so."

I agree. We spend the rest of the night joking around and talking about everything and nothing at all. Slowly, I just stop worrying about it all. About Malon. The carnies. My old flat. The squads. The bookburnings. Shad. Even Malladus and the great Zelda Harkinian.

When I'm stumbling to leave, it's Link who keeps me steady.

**…**

There were whispers in the corridors. They were nearly silent, but they were as deadly as ever. They gossiped, questioning the reasons, the motives. They wanted to know why, but the ever regal Zelda kept her head held high. She had since donned a new demeanor. The royal Zelda was not to be trifled with, and the rats of the nobility skittered from her purposeful feet. She was on a warpath, and nothing was to halt her plans. This was clear. If only her silk slippers could make stone shake like thunder.

Still they talked.

Why was it that she had fallen ill? She was always known for her good health, and should she ever fall ill, she was always too stubborn to stay put for long. Yet she was out of sight for weeks. Did you hear that the Sheikah tended to her? They're rarely ever seen, even on these castle grounds. And her favorite! Did you see? Did you see?! Around his neck, he's been wearing a scarf of purple cloth. Yes! It's true! Purple! Not red, not blue, but purple! Such arrogance.

Yet the Princess Zelda pays them no mind. She storms through her castle, ready for a fight. Her hair, unstyled and free, trails behind her in her quick pace. Color has returned to her cheeks. Her skin has paled. They praise her whitening skin. How horrid should it be for it to be tarnished by the sun again. It's despicable really. Here she thought she could do a man's job. They tsk in distaste, but then scatter when she so much as turns one eye to them.

Princess Zelda slams through heavy double doors without a thought. Blinding sunshine pools through the doors, and she goes out as a one man stampede. The castle gardens are just as meticulously maintained as they always have been. Flowers are beginning to lose their luster though with the approaching cold season.

When she finally finds him, he's snoozing in the shade under a willow, almost hidden from view by its long, green fingers. His hands are folded on his stomach, and his eyelids are closed. His tunic is almost he perfect disguise. She pushes the tree's curtain of foliage aside. "They won't shut up," she huffs, letting the greenery fall back in place, and then she flops down next to him. "I can't even hear myself think with the way they chatter about."

"You'll wrinkle your skirts."

"Oh hodgepodge," she spits without a care before adding, "It's ridiculous the things they focus on."

"Like the fairness of your skin?"

"They can't seem to stop whispering about the scarf I made you." Princess Zelda snorts. "What else am I to do when I'm bedridden?"

"It's purple."

The lady knight rolls her eyes. Her patience with Link's blatant and obvious statements is wearing thin, but he appears to be disinterested in everything around him. His eyes are still shut to world. "You don't have to wear it," she snaps, "if you don't like it. My feelings won't be hurt."

"No, I like it. You put a lot of work into it, too. It's just that it's purple."

"I was never going to wear that dress again anyway… not after the way I soiled it." Yes. It was ruined. Completely ruined. The scarf was only a small portion she cut from the front of her skirts, the back having been drenched with blood. She remembers walking towards her apartments, her ladies flocking behind her when the pain hit her. It struck through her abdomen and she doubled over, the trickle of blood leaking down her legs. The lady knight reaches over and fingers the fine, hardy damask embroidered with gold thread. She admits to him though, "I was worried that I might not finish it. That maybe I would never get well."

"You're made of tougher stuff than you think, milady."

The blonde lady heaves a sigh. She scoots closer to her companion and throws Link's arm from his stomach. He laughs at this. "Lady, what're you doing?" She curls up against him with her head resting over his heart. Though his laughter has stopped, the smile doesn't leave him, and Link opens his eyes. He brings his hand back up to run his fingers through her loose locks. His eyes rove every which way, taking in all the messy green strands of the willow.

They stay this way for a time, at ease under the willow until the princess asks, "Your heart still sounds the same. Does it even hurt?"

Link doesn't answer right away, but his eyes fixate on a spot straight ahead of him. "Yes and no," he finally tells her.

Princess Zelda gives a soft hum of acknowledgement and says, "I understand."

They stay this way until calls in the distance flit across the landscape for Her Highness. She quickly extracts herself from Link and rises from the ground. Pushing aside the long tresses of the willow, she emerges out into the world once again. Stoic, tall, proud, and most of all, royal.

She inclines her head slightly at the sight of the messenger, a young page. "What is it, boy?"

"A summons from His Majesty, milady. He wishes to speak to you in his private study."

"Did His Majesty say what for?"

"No, milady."

She considers the page for a minute, but then she nods her head. "Very well," she says curtly. "Thank you. Now be on your way, lad; I can walk alone."

The page gives her a nervous, sloppy bow and bounds off for the castle interior.

Princess Zelda gives one last look at the willow concealing the knight in green before marching off through the gardens toward the castle.

When she reaches her destination, the men standing guard in the hallway swing open the doors to the study to allow the princess through. She give them a curt nod as she glides by, her slippers silent and light. The doors clack shut behind her as she turns to face the King of Hyrule. A large man and well into his years, he stands over a large map spread out on a table. "Good morrow, Daughter. How are you faring?" he greets.

"I am well enough, Your Majesty," she says. Her voice is soft, light and quiet, but her words ring clearly through the impeccable study.

Books upon books line shelves along the walls. Books are stacked on the floor. A desk sits in a circular corner of the room where large windows let the sunlight in. There are even three globes and a telescope in the room. The table where the king stands is the focal point, but he stands straight and motions for the princess to follow as he takes from the table some papers. In another corner is an armchair and loveseat. The king settles into the armchair as his daughter seats herself daintily on the loveseat. She looks out the windows, waiting for him to speak.

Her father heaves a sigh, burdened with great weight. "My dear Zelda, I need you to consider this," he says, lifting the papers up in his hand. "This letter comes from Calatia. Considering that my last match for you has fallen through, this is a new contract for us to consider."

The princess needles her brow, and she casts the papers an inquisitive, suspicious glance before her eyes dart back to the king. She does not speak, does not even break her focus for a minute before she reaches over and snatches the papers from her father. Her eyes flit over the letter. She reads through the papers once, then twice and finally a third time before she lets them slap onto her lap. "They can't be serious," she mumbles.

"Oh, they quite are."

Princess Zelda huffs and rubs her temples. "Tell them that I refuse," she snaps, and she hands back the papers to her father.

"You got along quite well when you were children," he gently prods, his eyes reading a few passages here and there from the letter. "It would be a good match."

The unfaltering dark look on her face only makes him sigh again. "Zelda, my dear, I do not have much time left. I have no sons to entrust the throne to. You are all that I have."

"So you would let the throne fall into Calatian hands?"

"It would make a good alliance-"

At this, Princess Zelda rises in an instant. Her voice is firm and powerful when she says, "No."

The king cocks his head, but does not speak.

"Nothing good will come of it. Besides, the prince would be considered a heathen by the Hylian people. He does not share our faith; can you imagine the discord that would follow?"

"Do not speak in such insulting terms."

"I speak the truth," she bites back. "I will hear no more of this."

Bones weary with age, the king's joints crack as he rises as well. "And if an amicable agreement is not made, there will be other consequences."

"Would you rather fight a problem from the inside or the outside, Father?"

Princess Zelda doesn't wait for an answer, the stunned expression on his face satisfaction enough. She rises and leaves her father's study. The door slams behind her with a rattling force.

She is headstrong, there's no denying that. Calculating and intelligent as well. She stands alone in a yard, musket in hand. With quick, accurate fingers, she cleans it and preps it for the next shot. The princess loads the gun and takes aim at a far off target in the yard. A silence rolls over the yard as she tries to gauge her shot. One delicate finger slides over the trigger, and she pulls. Smoke erupts from the barrel and the shot blares through the air.

"Farore! What're you doing?"

The princess lowers the gun, and she turns to see Link approach, scowling and a pinky finger pulling at his ear. Her purple skirts twist with her movements. She cocks an eyebrow at him, mostly bemused by him than anything. Link still wears the purple scarf cut from her skirts and embroidered with the Hylian Royal Crest atop his green tunic.

He offers a quick greeting of "Morrow," and then Link nods at the musket in her hands. "Oi, what's this, Your Royal Highness?"

"The future," she levels. There's a glint in her eye of sheer determination.

Link takes the musket from her hands when she holds it out to him. He feels out its weight and looks it over as the Princess Zelda tells him, "It's not as accurate as I would hope it to be, but it shoots farther than a bow." Link hands it back to her and she starts the process of loading it once more. "Can you imagine all the things that will follow with this?

"We've been living in dark ages long enough. There's too much of the world left to be explored, too many things left undiscovered."

She passes the gun back to Link, who takes it with some hesitation. "And what in Din's name are you planning on doing with this contraption?"

At this, she shakes her head. "As of right now, nothing. The cost to produce is far too much to outfit an army at this point. Maybe one or two troops would be feasible. However, then there's training the men to use it, and loading it is a careful process," she lists. As she goes on, Link rolls his eyes. She frowns when she notices that he's quickly lost interest.

"Try it though," she tells him. "Take a shot at the target."

"What do I do?"

She walks him through the few simple steps, and Link raises the musket. He curses at the deafening sound when the gun fires. He squints out at the distance, and then tosses the musket back at the princess with a barking laugh. "I don't think I even came close."

She tries to hide her smirk from him, but Link sees the tugging of her lips. He elbows her a little, and she lets out a giggle. The two stare out at the target for a bit. The grey morning pools over the yard as Princess Zelda turns to her companion. "Will you fetch your uncle for me?" she asks him. "Send him to my apartments. I'll receive him in my study."

This shocks Link for a moment, but he quickly masks it. It only makes the princess raise her brow. "Are you sure?" he whispers.

"I need a favor," she tells him. "I'm sure that the members of your family will be more than willing to lap up this opportunity like the dogs they are."

Her eyes shift down to the musket in her hands. She holds it back out to him. "Do you want it? I assure you, it's as free of a gift as anything. No strings."

He chuckles a little, but Link shakes his head. "No thank you, milady. I wouldn't know what to do with it."

She shrugs. "I thought I'd at least offer."

Princess Zelda turns to leave him in the yard, but she stops in her tracks. Looking over her shoulder, her hair cascades down her back. Link raises his head to inquire. "Do me one other favor, will you?" Link nods. "The castle has too many ears." He blinks a few times, and then he nods in understanding. The lady knight cracks one last smile at him before leaving the yard behind.

She knows the castle like no other. Every twist, every turn, every shortcut. The princess is privy to all of its secrets. She slides in and out of corridors and slips gracefully into shadows away from prying eyes and ears.

When she enters her apartments, her ladies are quick to abandon their work. They rise to their feet with urgency and curtsey for her. "Your Highness" echoes through the room, but Princess Zelda doesn't even acknowledge their greetings. Instead, the moment she sets foot into the room, her voice overpowers her ladies. "Leave." And that's all it takes. The noblewomen quickly gather up any essential and file out of the princess' apartments.

In her bedroom, she sets the musket on top of her trunk, and then she makes her way into each of her rooms to ensure that she is alone. She paces around her rooms until Link opens the door to her apartments. His uncle steps in, and she nods to Link who turns and shuts the door behind him.

"Let's not waste time in formalities," she snaps as she spins on her heel.

Once in the study, she floats over to her desk to take a seat and motions for Link's uncle to follow. "Do you know why I've asked you here?"

"No, Your Highness."

"None at all?"

"No, Your Highness."

They stare at each other in a deadlock.

She breaks it: "That is such utter horse shit."

There's a slight twitch in the man's brow, but other than that, he offers her no other response. So they play the waiting game with each other. First for a minute, then two. Then even three. Link's uncle will not relent to the princess.

She leans back in her chair. "My father has foolishly chosen you of all people to represent us in Calatia." A wry smile stretches her face. "I just want to be assured that your ambitions in these proceedings match mine. Do you follow me now, Sir?"

"I do."

She cracks the knuckles on her right hand, her eyes drawn to it as she watches each finger bend under her thumb. "I need you to botch the negotiations."

"You're looking at a war, Your Highness."

"I'm well aware."

"You're looking at treason, Your Highness."

"Which is why I'll have your head if this gets out." She waves her hand. "I'm willing to make a deal, Sir. I will not have some God-fearing man on a throne blessed by the Golden Goddesses."

Link's uncle studies her for a spell. He takes in every quirk in her face, every tense and relaxed muscle. She won't even blink. "You truly think this about religion?"

"What better excuse?" she sneers.

"If you're willing to deal…"

Princess Zelda straightens again. "I'm ready and willing. I can do no more in my position. It's all up to you to make both ends of this deal work now, understand?"

"Yes, milady."

She smiles at him sweetly, but there's a hint of malice in her eyes as she looks at the nobleman sitting across from her.

"Good." Her voice rings out through the hotel room chilling and clear. Air rattles in my lungs as I awake from the dreams surrounded by darkness. I can barely make out the outlines of Link resting in the chair in the corner of the room. He must have brought me back. He's turned off by this point though, leaving me completely alone.

As I throw off the twisted sheets and quilt from me and rise from the bed. Deep within me, I can feel it. It burns in my core, and I can feel it. Her determination and personal ambition swells in a hearty fire in my chest. I place one palm on Link's forehead, my fingers tangling in his hair, and mumble my apology to him.

My feet carry me into the night. Step by step. I'm hardly aware of the world and lights flying by me as I run through town. Grass blades lick at my heels and ankles until I collapse at Eldin's spring. The hawk rises up from the water, flexing its wings in greeting, and I'm bathed in its golden light.

"Tell me what I need to do."

The hawk ruffles its feathers. "Then let's begin."

* * *

><p>I AM SO LATE FOR WORK.<p>

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you think! I wanted to give some more about Princess Zelda, so here it is. Thank you guys for all the messages and reviews; I really appreciate them, and it makes me glad that people are enjoying my work. Seriously, the amount of support I've gotten for this story and _Zombie Cake_ has been amazing.

NOW I GOTTA SCRAM.

:O


	14. You and Me Just Trying to Get it Right

Coin-Operated

14.0

You and Me Just Trying to Get it Right

She wasn't allowed to participate in this tournament, so instead, she watches from a dais as her favorite is challenged again and again. A gifted, battle-hardened warrior, Link has yet to be bested in the tournament. His brother Raven watches carefully from the sidelines, not participating in the fray either. His eyes flit about as he takes in all of the knights, and she, too, watches carefully. She always tries to keep him in her sights, but if her eyes stay, she's frantic until she locates the devious brother again.

Princess Zelda cannot relax. Her muscles are tense, and she barely concerns herself with the chatter that goes on in her ear from the ladies. Her interest is sparked however, when she hears them mention Calatia in worried tones. Yes, they will probably go to war, that she was sure, but she can't help but stroke her pleasured ego knowing she had gotten her way. Feeling a little satisfied with herself, she turns back to the games where horses are being brought out for jousting.

Jousting is one of her father's favorite sports. She doesn't doubt, with a little bitterness, that he will participate.

Oh, what is his name now?

She motions for one of her ladies. "Send me the squire by the name of Colin," she commands, and her lady obeys without question to fetch the boy. Her hair is adorned with ribbons galore, and she pulls one free and clutches it in her hand.

The squire she sent for is young, maybe thirteen years or so with wide almond eyes. His hair is stick straight, and he is in need of a cut, for it falls into those big grey irises. The squire is hesitant to approach the princess, and his nerves get the better of him. His greeting is sloppy and so is his bow, but Princess Zelda doesn't mind. She beckons him closer, and says quietly to him, "Colin, right?"

"Yes, milady."

She reaches out with both hands and grasps his. "Already, you've spent the summer as a squire. The season is almost at end, so I'm sorry that we weren't properly introduced before this," she tells the skittish squire, "but I do have a favor to ask of you."

"Yes, milady?"

"Just tell your master to do his best, will you?" she asks him with honey sweetness. She leans in a little, his hand still in hers, and she whispers to him, "Don't open your hand until you get to him either."

"Yes, milady."

"Milord's treating you well, yes? And you're training hard, I assume?"

"Yes, milady."

Her smile widens, and her eyes flick to see the curious stares of some of the noblewomen. "That's good to hear." She pats his hand as she pulls back, and then she offer him one last piece of advice. "You'll be fine, just listen to your master well. You may go; I will see you at court another time." Finally, she lets go of his hand, and the squire, Colin, fists both his hands as he makes a hasty bow and retreats.

She keeps an eye out on the field, waiting until the squire comes into sight. Princess Zelda keeps a close watch on the boy until he approaches his knight master and passes on her favor to him. Link gives a nod to his squire and stashes her ribbon under his shirt.

Her favor delivered, she turns her attention to the two mounted knights in the field. Lances are passed to them, and they adjust and ready themselves for their final tilt. She leans forward a bit as the mounts begin their charge and the lances drop. It happens in an instant. A collective gasp rings out among those watching the joust as one knight is thrown from his horse when his opponent's lance explodes. It takes almost a minute, and the opposing knight hurries off his mount to check on the fallen one, but the fallen knight rises. There's a sigh and cheer rings out as he stands tall and proud, even though it is in defeat.

She continues to watch the jousting, albeit with lessening interest. She doesn't dare straighten when her favorite is up. Link guides his stubborn mare across the field. The mighty warhorse snorts and snaps at the approaching knights and squires, but Link keeps her under enough control to get suited for his joust. Princess Zelda does allow a small laugh to escape when the giant Epona blows her snout right into the back of one retreating squire. The proud warhorse has never changed her sour attitude, although she tolerates her master now. On the field, Epona is truly the one to watch. Strong muscles and the determination to match, she charges down the tilt barrier as Link lowers his lance and is a force to be reckoned with. The other knight is unhorsed, and once they come to a stop, Epona stomps her feet and cries out to boast her victory. After two more tilts, Link does not manage to unhorse his opponent again, but manages to strike the knight's shield dead center. Epona whinnies and snorts, carrying her rider back down the tilt barrier. Once his helmet is removed, she can see Link's wide smile and laughter at how his horse gloats as she leads him off.

Princess Zelda shifts her gaze. Sir Raven still hides in the shadows, but the knight's uncle appears at his side. They speak briefly to one another, and then his uncle goes. She frowns a little at this.

It's well into the afternoon, when she spies her father gearing up for a round. She huffs to herself. For Farore's sake.

"Enjoying the tournament so far, Your Highness?" Princess Zelda turns to see Sir Raven looming over her.

"I'd much rather be participating than a silent bystander," she replies stiffly.

The knight smirks a little. "Oh, but you and I both know you're not all that silent."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"My!" he laughs. "You've become quite the little diplomat since your first year of knighthood. So cold."

She opens her mouth to retort, but she stops short when screams erupt from the crowds. Even Sir Raven is rattled by the commotion. Princess Zelda bolts up from her seat, her eyes wide. "Oh goddesses!" she cries. With no ceremony, she gathers her skirts up leaving legs and ankles exposed as she races off the dais with Sir Raven at her heels. Nobody bats an eye at her scandalous behavior, too fixated on the gore before them.

There's blood. Good goddesses, there's blood!

She tries to break through the crowd, but Sir Raven holds her back. Some break away to at least let her see, but it only makes her all the more hysterical. The medic Borville makes his way, and the people give him space. Princess Zelda stops fighting Sir Raven, and instead just lets him hold her weight. When his brother arrives, he relinquishes the maddened princess to Link.

There isn't even a chance.

He is gone before Borville can even do a thing, so the squirrely doctor merely rises again and steps back without a word.

The sight of her father laid out motionless in the yard set her off into another set of wails. She fought, scratched and even bit her favorite, but Link held fast to her despite her clawing. Once she loses her strength, Link scoops her up and carries her from the yard and away from the gory sight.

Within the week she is crowned Queen of Hyrule.

She refuses to take new apartments, and the young queen spends her evenings hiding away in her rooms. By supper, she has her ladies clear out, and her meals taken in her private rooms, but the food sits cold on the table. Queen Zelda sits on her window sill with her face against the glass as she watches the sun set across the land.

There's a knocking from the floor, and the queen pulls herself away from the window. The rug gets pulled back, and the trapdoor opens up. Link pokes his head up from the passage, a soft, crooked smile on his face. He has a hopeful disposition as he holds up a bottle for her. "Wine?" he asks her. "Freshly stolen from the cellar."

She laughs a little.

"Sure, but…" she takes the bottle and shakes it side to side, the liquid sloshing around inside. "Come back with some mead, and I'll let you in," she teases.

Link's smile widens. "There's my lady."

"Mead, love."

"Of course," he promises, and he disappears back into the passage.

When Link returns with a couple of bottles of mead, he hands them off to the queen and proceeds to kick the trap and rug down with little ceremony. Seeing her untouched dinner, he encourages her to eat, and bit by bit, she eventually does with the wine while Link stands at the window. His arm up and his forehead resting on it, he looks out the glass as the last bit of natural light disappears for the day. He's frowning a little.

"Are you going to drink with me?" she asks, coming up to him and resting a hand on his arm. "We can play cards."

He turns, a light smile on his face once more. "Sure," he sighs, wrapping an arm around her. Link dips his head down and steals a kiss from the queen. "That sounds good."

She pulls him close and rests her head on his chest. "Do you remember what I said that first summer after we got our shields when we were sent down to Ordon?"

Link's brow wrinkles, and he pushes her back to look at her. "You made the deal with my uncle, didn't you?"

Her face crumples with apology. "I did mean what I said."

Link lets his hands drop her shoulders, and he sighs with down cast eyes.

"Link-"

He reaches out with one hand and cups her cheek. "What am I going to do with you?" he chuckles.

She laughs a little at this too.

"I'll just never ask, if that suits you."

"That suits me just fine."

He kisses her temple and pulls her along. "Now let's have some of that mead."

They spend their time together talking and playing cards in the dim room, and Link tries to dodge and turn each close mention of the recently deceased king. Flames flicker from candles, and occasionally a little bit of wax escapes and drips down the side of the candle. Link eventually leaves through the passage under the floor, only to reappear with another bottle of drink for them to share and a loaf of bread from the kitchens. Eventually, when he sees the young queen has had too much drink, he carries her over to her bed.

When he turns to go, the queen snatches his wrist. "Don't go," she says. "Not tonight. Bring the cards over here." He obeys without question or comment. Link sets the bottle of mead, still sloshing with liquid inside, onto the bedside table, and they continue their game on her bed. The queen, however, rolls over to rest her head on the side of Link's stomach.

He snorts. "Zelda, I can see your cards."

"Great, so can I. You can give me that four of clubs so I can have a run, love."

Link obliges, but he hands her all of his cards. "Take them all then," he chuckles.

The queen throws the cards up, and they scatter across the foot of her bed and the floor. She snuggles into him and wraps an arm around his middle. She likes just this; it's comfortable, and there is no pressure. Softly, she says, "Thank you for trying to distract me."

"Any time you need it."

"Any?"

Link jostles her with his light laughter. He rubs one eye before letting his hand fall back onto the dark covers. "Any," he reiterates and extracts himself.

He rolls over onto his stomach to reach for the bottle when, feeling merry, the queen clambers on top of him, much to his groaning protest. She giggles and then shrieks when Link pushes himself up from the bed. Wrapping her arms around his chest, she tries to hold on as she laughs like mad. "You're drunk," he declares when he shakes her off. The queen flops back onto the bed. He hands the bottle of mead to Queen Zelda, and she drinks her fill. She hands the bottle back, the smile still on her face and laughter in her voice as she tells him to finish it off.

With the bottle drained, he slams it carelessly back on the table. He turns back to the queen, who is tracing shapes above her with one slender finger. He asks her what she's doing, but the lady only shakes a little holding in laughter and then straightens out. From her one extended finger, Queen Zelda produces a small ball of light and taps it upwards. "Learned something new?" Link asks, and she hums in agreement as she casts a few more up.

"I like them," she mutters. "They're like stars."

He pulls her to him as she send off one last light. Her eyes sparkle crystal clear under them, and her cheeks rosy from drink are illuminated. A smile creeps across her face when he starts to trail kisses down her neck. Link pulls away suddenly, bursting with suppressed laughter and rolls away. She asks him, "What?"

"Your skirts are ridiculous."

"So is all fashion," she giggles.

She gives him new, private rooms closer to hers and access to the hidden passageways of the castle, allowing her male Sheikah guard, Sheik, to keep a closer watch on him. The two are acquainted well enough, and she is pleased to see that the closer proximity did not hinder their friendship. In fact, it seems that if Link is to get lost in the hidden passages, Sheik is the one to find him, and often times, she can see from her windows the two sparring. She often worries that her blatant favoritism might endanger the knight.

Of course, there are whisperings among the court. She could easily spy from the passageways with Sheik or Impa at her side. The nobles of course notice the change immediately, but Link is her favorite after all. Although due to the passageways, they can never confirm, though they always suspect what might be going on. It's true though that most nights, his room is left locked from the inside and left undisturbed.

While she worries, this does bring a little fortune to him; nobles with higher standing are willing to yield to him, even ask for favors in hopes that he could help elevate them in court.

Sheik almost never comes through her bedroom door, always from the floor. She jumps when he crashes through without a care. "They're arguing again" is all he will say, and she flies into action. She follows after the Sheikah.

"Is this really that important?" she asks him.

"Sir Raven has a hidden blade on his person."

At this, she picks up her pace as they run through the yard. Some of the nobles take notice but quickly brush it off. Their queen was most unconventional in almost all aspects. The sight of her running through the castle with her skirts hiked up seemed less and less bothersome these days.

The Sheikah leads her out from the castle grounds and into the woods.

When the two arrive, but the brothers seemingly take no notice as the Sheikah blends into the shadows of the trees, and the queen peers meekly from behind a large oak. Both men were armed with their swords, but she could spy the edge of the second blade's hilt hidden within the folds of the elder's tunic. With one quick move, the blade could be drawn from his back.

The smile that stretches on Link's face is wide and knowing. He just about laughs in the face of his brother. "You!" he cackles, pointing a finger at Sir Raven. "You can't make me do anything! None of you can!"

Sir Raven's eyes narrow dangerously. Little slits of a hazel blue. "Mark me, Brother," he spits on the ground. "You will be cast out from the family."

Link takes a few steps back, the smirk never leaving his face. Dead leaves and twigs on the forest floor crunch under his feet. Shadows from the trees above cast patterns over his signature green tunic and cream pants and shirt. He shakes the blond hair from his face and throws his arms up. "What a favor that would be!" he hoots. Little laugh lines crinkle at his eyes as his lips stretch even more. "I'd at least be free! And Nayru knows! I'd still have all the trust and love of the queen!"

Link shakes his head at Sir Raven, and then he turns away.

"So confident, are you?" Raven shouts out, "You'd cast aside your honor and your pride so easily?"

Link turns a little and gestures to the queen, "What say you, Your Majesty?"

"I'd say that you have more honor than the whole lot combined." Sir Raven bristles at the sight of the queen, having not taken notice before, as she steps out from the oak tree.

"You made us a deal!" he roars.

She shrugs. "It was made with the understanding that my part was done in as much as I could do. The rest was up to you lot, if you can't make your brother cooperate, that's your loss," she says sweetly. A smile curls on her lips.

Raven roars, "Draw your sword, Brother!"

The smile on the two lovers' faces falters a little, and Link even laughs a little. Challenged to a duel by his own flesh and blood? The queen swallows and steps back, knowing that this is not her fight. Her eyes scan the shadows for the Sheikah, but he is nowhere to be found.

Sir Raven draws his sword from his belt and advances on Link, who has not moved like a caught deer. The smile is gone from his face as his eyes widen, realizing that his brother does indeed intend to cut him down. The younger knight backpedals, foliage scraping underfoot as he pulls his broadsword from his back. His ancient sword, Fi, gives off a slight ethereal glow from the blade in the shade of the trees. Where sunlight hits the blade, it shines magnificently.

The elder makes the first strike. His blade wisps through the air in a downward slash, but Link throws it back. He drives Fi in an upward arc and throws his brother's sword into the ground. He calls his brother mad and receives no verbal response from Sir Raven. The elder knight instead intensifies his blows. With each incoming strike, Link defends with ease, but he makes no move to attack.

The queen looks on as the two knights exchange blows. Sir Raven eventually turns Link around, putting Link's back to Queen Zelda. A whisper from the shadows hisses at her, "Stand back, Your Majesty." The queen stumbles back and sees from above her several Sheikah needles dart past. The needles dig into Sir Raven's vulnerable sword arm where no chainmail protects him. The knight cries out in pain and rips the needles out in one go, but Link does not use the opportunity to attack. Instead, the younger knight tries to put more distance between himself and his brother.

The queen chastises the Sheikah. "What are you _doing_?" she snaps at a whisper.

Sheik's voice rings in her ears. "Following your orders."

"This is a duel!"

"Do you wish for me to stand down?"

"Yes!" she whispers frantically.

"Very well."

Like a lion, Sir Raven's roar thunders through the woods, and he charges at his brother. Link pulls his sword up defensively, awaiting the powerful attack. The screeching of steel rips through the queen's ears as their swords clash and drag across one another. In one move, Link is able to push the sword from his brother's hands. Sir Raven's sword is flung onto the forest floor as Link delivers a swift kick to his brother's stomach.

Sir Raven topples to the ground, and Link seizes the moment to force him into submission. Fi at his brother's throat, he howls, "YIELD!"

"Your Majesty…" slides Sheik.

The queen's eyes widen when she sees Sir Raven reach across himself. "LINK! THERE'S ANOTHER BLADE!"

Link draws back, his sword once again up in defense as Sir Raven pulls the hidden sword from his tunic. Armed once more, he advances. The sword is discreet and not nearly as wide or long as his broadsword, but much too large for a dagger. The queen hears the whisper from the shadows that the blade is of Sheikah design, one for assassinations.

"He'll get his broadsword, milady."

"Hush!" she hisses.

"Your Majesty, you or I could just step in."

"I have more honor than that."

Sir Raven is able to push Link back enough, that he retrieves his broadsword. While Fi is obviously much lighter, allowing Link to wield her with one hand, Sir Raven's sword is weighted. His swings are sloppy, and he tosses aside the Sheikah sword to wield it with both hands. Sir Raven's blows come much fiercer and faster now. One strike manages to cut through an opening of Link's defense and slices a long gash in his exposed leg. Red blooms along the cut, staining the cream color pant leg. The queen and the Sheikah look on as the elder knight gains the upper hand.

Her heart races in her chest, the blood pumping with wild abandon in her veins. "Milady… the sword." The queen, trying to keep an eye on the duel, rushes to retrieve the Sheikah blade. She pulls it to her breast.

Sir Raven feigns a strike to Link's left and quickly kicks Link's foot out from under him. Link's grip on Fi is loosened, and the sword slips from his grasp. With one hand, Raven grabs hold of Link's collar and drives him into the ground and knocks the wind out of him. Link's breath rattles as Sir Raven brings up his sword for the killing blow. Queen Zelda flies forward, drawing up the Sheikah sword to meet Sir Raven's with one hand, the other sparked with golden electricity. "MERCY!" she begs, her heart wailing with her. Sir Raven eyes the hand teeming with magic, ready to strike him. She repeats her cry a few more times and pleads, "A year! Give me a year!" before the elder knight withdraws.

With shaky hands, Link sits up and clutches his leg to inspect his wound.

The elder knight holds up a finger. "One year," he growls.

The queen slowly sinks to the ground. She blinks, hardly aware of the tears rolling down her cheeks.

The Sheikah slips out from the shadows and kneels by his comrade to take a look at the wound.

"Zelda, what have you done?" Link croaks.

**…**

The coin rattles down the slot on the box on Link's chest. His eyes click open like shutters on a dark window. He looks around the room, and he notices the setting sun outside the window. "Zelda," he says, "what have you done?"

My heart aches a little at this.

"I went to see the light spirit, Eldin," I tell him. "Last night."

Blue eyes slide back to me. The glassy, inhumane way they stare at me, unhinges me, and I stumble back on the bed. "We should leave. Either tomorrow or the next day," I mumble. "We're almost out of money."

"And go where?"

"I don't know, anywhere," I snap.

The soft clicking of Link's eyelids blinking sounds. "Zelda, what happened?"

"I've been dreaming again," I sniffle, wringing my hands.

Link doesn't respond right away, but he eventually rises from the chair and sits next to me on the bed. "I know that you've seen some of my memories," he starts, but I shush him.

"They're not yours," I sputter. "I mean… You're- you're _in_ them, but these aren't yours. They're _hers_." This I'm sure of. In Link's memories, I am both there and not there. I am a ghost in his almost forgotten world of blurred faces and slurred words. A world with ends. The queen's are complete, almost as if I were at the pictures.

Link pulls away from me slightly, unsure how to respond, but knowing exactly to whom I am referring to. "What do you mean?"

"Yours are different. They're not complete; sometimes, things are blurred."

"Did Eldin give you these?" he asks with alarm.

I shake my head. "No! They come when I am sleeping!

"I went to Eldin for help. It was willing to help me tap into the gold magic." A hand goes to my chest, and I can feel my heart thump softly under my palm. There, I can still feel my core burn with the magic.

"And?" he prods a little.

I cup my hands and begin to draw from my core. It's hot and stings a little as it runs through my veins like the burn of a cinnamon candy. A ghost of light erupts in my hands, and it builds. The flames begin to curl, so I pull my hands apart and begin to roll the flames between my hands to keep it under control. "I can bend fire," I laugh a little. "I still don't understand what happened in the woods though."

"The transport spell?"

I nod and let the flame die out. "Eldin called it Farore's Wind."

Link grabs my hand. The synthetic skin is cool to the touch; it's not warm, not sweaty. "Hey," he says as he drags me to my feet, "let's not worry about it. We're okay for now, so let's just get out for a few hours."

"You're kind of crushing my hand."

He immediately lets go with a sputtering of apologies.

I rub my hand. "It's fine! It's fine!" I say. "Here." I take hold of his hand, and he laughs a little.

Link leads me down the streets of Kakariko. We amble along in no clear direction. Shops are closing down for the night. The cold air occasionally whips by, and I say, "You know, if we go to the desert, it might be warmer." I huddle a little more into my sweater.

"During the day, sure," Link replies. He nudges me. "We could go up into the mountains. Snowpeak is supposed to be pretty in the winter."

"It's not even winter yet!" I cry. The thought of going up to Snowpeak makes me shudder with an extra chill. "It's probably freezing up there."

"Well it's a good thing you've learned to control some of your magic," he mutters low in my ear. I shush him, but the other passerby don't seem to have heard anything.

Link and I stand at the window of a sweet shop. He points out certain candies or other sweets, and I try my best to describe them to him. The shop has closed, but the display lights left on shine brightly in the dark. Sometimes, I'll point out some of my favorites. I point to some caramel candies in the corner of the dark shop when we're greeted by none other than the scholar Shad. He's bundled up from the cold, and with one gloved hand, he pushes his glasses up his nose and brushes his ashy brown bangs aside.

He tells us, "I didn't expect to run into you again so soon; I thought you might have skipped town by this point." He offers an awkward smile. "It must be fate, because I actually have some news for you." Link and I share a glance. "You asked me about a man named Malladus."

"You actually found something?" Link asks, a little dumbstruck.

Shad frowns, and his brow knits in unease. He shifts from one foot to the other. "It's not exactly what you'd want to hear though…" He swallows. "I'd heard the name from somewhere, that I was certain, but it's nothing to do with age-old history, unfortunately. You know how the president has had those squad roaming the country? President Ghirahim originally appointed a man with the last name of Malladus to be the head of the MITF," Shad explains. My stomach drops. "I just read an article in yesterday's newspaper about how he's restructuring the forces to further control the magic users in the ranks."

Link inclines his head slightly. "Oh shit," he mutters.

"What? What's that mean?"

Shad glances between us, slightly confused by our reaction. Link squeezes my hand, never looking at me and making me wince, but I follow his lead. I keep my mouth closed. Link gives Shad a small smile and asks him, "Well, we were on our way for a drink. Want to join?"

The scholar hesitates. "I really shouldn't," he replies. "But there's a nice little hole in the wall about eight blocks from here." He points us in the direction of Death Mountain. "It's called the Shaggy Dog. The food is good, though in recent weeks there have been a few strange characters frequenting it." By the quirk in my brow, Shad further explains that they seem to be like us, drifters. Generally, there's no point in going up the mountain except to enjoy nature, so I can understand the strangeness of seeing drifters that far into town.

"Are you sure, Shad?" I ask him, but there's a piece of me praying he'll insist that he doesn't come with. How odd would it be to see a man that won't even drink a glass of water in the middle of a bar?

I almost heave a sigh of relief when he shakes his head in refusal.

"I'm sorry, but maybe the next time you decide to come through town," he says. "I'm sure we'll have the opportunity to meet again." He offers his hand to us and gives us a curt goodbye.

Link and I watch as he turns down the block. He leans towards me. "He's a pretty odd guy himself, don't you think?"

"Definitely." I giggle to myself after a moment.

Link shrugs. "Well? You want to check it out? If we can talk to some other drifters, we might find another place to go to that's not crawling with squads."

I have no real objections.

"Then let's go, love… What?"

I shake my head. "Nothing. You just haven't called me that in a long time."

He thinks about it for a moment. "I guess I haven't," he agrees.

The Shaggy Dog is dimly lit. The lights are hung low in both height and light. The entrance is small and discreet, and we pass through a narrow hall to enter the lounge area. There's a group of women taking up most of the lounge seating across from the bar where two men sit in conversation, and they're clearly not the sort of people we are all that interested in talking to. Beyond the bar is another small area of table and booths, so I slip into the corner while Link approaches the bar.

Link brings me a beer and a glass of water. I eye the glass of water. "So, are you my designated driver?" I joke, and Link cracks a smile.

"Shut up and drink some of it."

Link plays with one of the sets of silverware left at the table. "Can I ask you something?" he says quietly.

I set my beer down. "Sure." The amber liquid settles down in the glass, foam clinging to the side.

"What… what have the light spirits shown you exactly?"

"You had the most disagreeable horse ever bred," I say, which makes Link laugh. I can almost swear that there's a spark in his eyes at the mention of Epona.

"She was something else," he agrees. "I miss her terribly. Do you know what happened to her?"

"No," I say.

The fork in Link's hands clatters onto the table. His eyes drift from me, and he nods. He glances behind us at the group of women gossiping amongst each other. He has a small smirk on his face when he turns back to me. "I guess you know a lot about me now, huh?"

I think, though, that I've learned the most about him not from his own memories, but the brief interludes of the moving pictures from his old lover.

"Why am I dreaming of her?"

His mouth thins. He looks around with suspicious eyes briefly, and then he leans towards me. "I think it has to do with your magic," he whispers.

"It's the gold, right? It was hers before?" I ask, keeping an eye out as well.

"Not here."

"Then what was it about Mal-" I stop short.

Link's brow knits.

"Oh my goddesses!" I breathe.

Link turns, and his jaw drops. We both scramble from the booth, turning the heads of the women. The men barely look our way as they speak to the bartender. From the hallway leading from the front entrance comes in two faces I didn't think we'd see again. Darunia barrels over and slams Link and I into a monstrous hug. Marin trails behind him at her own pace, and she doesn't look nearly as enthused to see us as Darunia. Deadpan, she tells him, "Let them go before you break them both, will you?" Darunia lets us drop as Marin slides into Link's side of the booth and grabs my beer. She takes a whiff of it before taking a swig.

"Can't you get your own?" Darunia chastises, but Marin just shrugs. My knees buckle when he slaps me on the back. "I'll buy you another."

I think my ribs might be bruised.

I plop myself back into the booth across from Marin. Link sinks in next to her. She pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one, dragging the ashtray towards her.

"What about Ilia?" Link asks her.

"Don't know," Marin says with a shrug. "I got lucky to run into Darunia after we separated. We floated around Castleton for a while, then came out here. Darunia might know something. Ask him." She takes a drag on her cigarette. The smoke wisps from her mouth when she lets out a breath.

Link asks Darunia about Ilia when he returns with another beer for me and one for himself. He shakes his head. His beard and hair have grown out from the last time that I've seen him, though they're still as wild as ever. The strong-man shakes his head. "When the fire started, I went to get to you and her first," he says. "She was trying to get to some of the animals. I had to carry her off." He sighs. "Sorry, it's kind of hazy. I just remember trying to get as far away as I could. I lost her somewhere in all the madness."

Link's eyes lower.

The Goron gestures to Marin, who frowns slightly. "We found a couple of jobs out here. What brings you two here?"

"Drifting," Link says. "You know I can't really stay in one place for long."

Darunia stretches back for a moment, heaving a long sigh. He looks over at me, and a huge smile breaks on his face. He throws an arm around me and draws up against his massive frame. "Now how in the world did he convince _you_ to stick around?" he laughs.

Though no one else enters the bar for the rest of the night, I don't particularly mind, and I don't think Link does either. We catch up with Marin and Darunia for the rest of the evening. Darunia keeps pushing drinks on me, insisting that I should have Link's share, much to Link's disgust, and Darunia teases him.

Darunia is back doing factory work again. He says it's boring work, but work all the same. Marin has been waitressing at a local diner, and I think she feels the same about it all. I can tell that deep down, all three of them miss the carnival, even Marin who was so determined to get out of it. The carnival wasn't just a job to them, it was a home and a family for the carnies. One that I could never truly be a part of.

We all make a plan at the end of the night to meet up with each other the next day before Link and I move on to where ever we may end up next.

"Can we talk tomorrow?" Link asks when we finally make it back to our room. He settles into his chair. "I don't have much time left."

"Can I at least ask you about Shad's news?"

"I'm pretty sure that's the same man," Link says, and he says no more, even when I push him a little.

I just kick my shoes off and settle into bed in my clothes, eager for sleep when Link sits down on the bed next to me. I don't say anything and just wait for him, but I get nothing for a few minutes but silence.

Finally, Link sighs, "Zelda, I haven't always made the best choices." There's an edge of regret and sadness that colors his voice in a way that he sounds truly human.

"What're you talking about?"

His mouth bobs open and closed, and there's a slight crackle from the speaker box in the back of his mouth, but Link can't seem to form the words he wants. "I think I need to show you something," he says finally. He scoots closer to me and hesitantly places his hands on the sides of my head, as if afraid to crush me. "Just close your eyes for me?"

And I do.

**…**

Their horses thunder down the path. Citizens scramble to get out of the brothers' warpath as they charge their horses through the streets of Castleton. The brothers are fully armored with lances in hand. Sir Raven leads with Link following closely behind as they storm through the city gates and out into the open field. Some of the city folk, taking notice of the armored knights, gossip amongst themselves, and some begin to trickle after the knights.

Once there is enough distance from not only the town but between the two of them, Link and Raven turn their horses to face each other. They stare each other down. Epona, in particular, gets antsy; she snorts and whinnies. Her head shakes violently, her white mane and tail flailing about. Her hooves scrape and stamp the ground impatiently, and Link does nothing to try and reign her in.

Sir Raven begins to spur his horse into action, when shouts ring out across the field. The two brothers turn their heads to see what the commotion is. His Majesty, the King of Hyrule, rides out from the city gates with an entourage. The people make room for him, his horse and party, some bowing and others crossing themselves with the sacred Triforce as he passes by. The brothers wait to be addressed, but the king does nothing. Daphnes de Hyrule simply waits.

Link is startled into action when his brother spurs his horse. Epona does not wait for her master, and she begins her charge. With each step, her speed picks up. Both lances are lowered and shields are in place, but Link gets in only a glancing blow before he is unhorsed. Fragments of Sir Raven's shattered lance splatter around Link, who groans and rolls onto his side. Sir Raven tosses aside the remains of his lance. "Not as good with your right hand, are you?" the elder taunts. Link stumbles to his feet and rips his helmet off. A little line of blood trickles down from his dirty blond hairline where the helmet had cut into him. He retrieves his shield with his right arm, turning the Coutts' coat of arms upside down as his brother begins to charge at him again with his broadsword in hand. With no time to remount, Link simply draws Fi from his back with his more natural left hand, and his horse stamps over to the side.

Seeing no opening, Link hesitates for two steps. He races down the field on foot, shield up to block Raven's strike. The edge of Link's sword swings out and cuts into Raven's mount as his shield clangs against his brother's sword. Raven's horse wails with the injury, and he curses as he tries to keep his mount under control. Link waits as his brother swings down from the horse and sends it off, taking the time to rip more of the plated armor off of himself.

"Well if this isn't familiar," Raven spits, his voice hollow and cold coming from inside the helmet. He laughs at Link's minimalist defense. "You're really going to do that though?"

Link shrugs. "No need for it anymore."

"I believe that we're honorable men," Raven says as the brothers circle each other, but Link narrows his eyes at his brother. "Though you should realize that your love's no longer here to ask for mercy."

"You would have beheaded me if she didn't pose a threat; you have no honor."

Raven roars with laughter and swings out at Link. Link is able to meet him with each blow. Unlike their previous duel, Link is more willing to take the offensive this time. Any restraint he might have had in facing his brother before is now gone. Link pushes his brother back with each strike he makes, and he leaves no openings for a counterattack. Realizing this, Sir Raven attempts to breach Link's defense. He brings up his shield and smashes into Link. Link stumbles back, but he manages to block the vertical strike that flies at him.

Link's retaliation is swift. He swings Fi outward as Sir Raven raises his sword. The sacred sword slices straight through Sir Raven. The severed limb and sword slaps onto the ground. Mirroring his brother's attack, Link bashes his shield into Sir Raven. The knight stumbles back, blood spilling from the stump of his arm. Using the hilt of his sword, Link smashes in the front of Raven's helmet and knocks the elder off his feet. Link tears the helmet from Sir Raven and places the tip of his sword at his brother's neck. His nose is broken, and his mouth is a mess of blood. His lips twitch, but he can't form any words.

Link coldly returns his brother's taunt, "Not as good with your right hand, are you?"

Sir Raven can't respond, so Link looks to the silent crowd which intently watches him. Nobody is willing to speak, but Daphnes de Hyrule gives Link a slight incline of his head. Link turns back to his brother and lifts his sword away. With one stroke, Link brings Fi down and severs Sir Raven's head.

* * *

><p>A bit of a long one for you today, so I hope you enjoyed it.<p>

I also hope you guys have a relaxing holiday! I'm enjoying all of the snow we're getting - and it stays! It's been here for a full week! Been a nice change from the South. We have the this huge mountain of snow in the parking lot at work, so we're going to do something crazy with it when close up the restaurant early for our Christmas party. We've actually already had a kid steal a tray from us and use it as a sled to go down it. Surprisingly, he didn't break it.

More snow this week too! Ahhh!

RAmen!

;p


	15. Those Big Skies Won't Betray Us

Coin-Operated

15.0

Those Big Skies Won't Betray Us

It's quiet. It's eerie. Fog rolls across the fields.

His squire is at his side, and he can't help the wave of guilt rolling in his stomach. Having just turned fifteen and in his second year of serving, Link can't shake the idea that he's not ready. His work on the field last year was so tame in comparison; they'd spent another couple of months attempting to sort out the map-making conundrum of the Lost Woods, without much success, before returning to court to participate in tournaments. This year, however, they are locked in war.

Camp has been set up along the eastern front in Calatia, and the Hyruleans wait to begin their siege on the nearby castle and city. Tents are sprawled along the field to form their makeshift community. Link claps his squire on the back and tells the boy to follow him. Fires have been started, and the other men are cooking meals for their growling bellies. Colin, his squire, looks on at some of the roasting game with envy. He's told to keep to attention, and the boy sheepishly nods. Her tent is one of the largest set up in the camp. Link pulls aside the flap, and his squire slips in before him.

She's sitting at a makeshift desk overlooking a map of the front when the knight master and squire enter. Queen Zelda, dressed in her sapphire tunic, smiles when she sees them. "Good evening," she greets. "I've casted a ward around the tent. Anything said here stays between us, understood?"

Link glances over to his squire as he bows before their queen. The boy, who still gets frozen with nerves when seeing the queen, is forced to bend over by his master. The queen doesn't take offense to the boy's actions, and she laughs softly in amusement.

Out of everybody in the world, one of the last people Link had expected to become privy to his affair was the young squire, and the knowledge has only seemed to make the poor child more frightened of the queen. It's not as if she is going to bite his head off, but the knowledge makes him uncomfortable. The boy already tries his hardest not to disappoint his knight master, and Link can tell that he now strives to prove himself to the queen more so than before he got caught up in their unconventional courtship. Link doesn't blame the boy in the least. Colin is timid by nature, but he eagerly tries to compensate for it in his training, something which Link can appreciate, even if the boy is making it harder for himself.

The queen motions for the young squire to come and sit next to her, and he does, albeit with some shaking. Still young and growing, his awkwardness and nerves are exponentially worse in the presence of the queen. He fidgets. The knight and his squire go over the topography of the land with the queen as she starts to formulate new strategies using little blocks of wood with markings to indicate her troops and enemy locations and possible moves. When she notices the squire drifting from attention and trying to stifle yawns, she sends him on his way.

Link, however, takes this dismissal for himself as well. She calls to him as they exit her tent. Colin stops and looks uncertainly between his master and the queen. The queen waves him off and tells him to get a good rest in before morning.

Zelda turns to him when the tent flaps close. Within the tent are no candles to illuminate the dark space. Instead, little, pale yellow balls of light hang around the tent like stars close to home. If he wants, he's sure that he could reach out and poke one. Touch it. Feel it. With Colin gone, she lets the façade drop. Her posture sinks a little, and circles rim under her eyes that he didn't notice before. With one fatigued hand, she waves away all the lights, and they extinguish themselves.

He's left in the dark with the queen.

It takes a minute or so for his eyes to attempt to readjust to the darkness. Her slim figure worms its way through the tent, and he can just catch the barest glimpse of the movement. Link is hesitant to move himself. There are lots of shapes in the dark that he can barely make out, but he's unfamiliar with them – which just makes it worse - and instead worries a little of making himself a fool banging into things. The queen seems to navigate just fine in the dark to her bedroll. Link, however, is totally lost, his eyes unable to fully adjust to the overwhelming, overbearing darkness.

"Where are you?" he asks.

She laughs a little to his left where he saw her figure disappear into the black shadows of the night. "Come find me," teases the queen. What a devil she is. He groans a little at the prospect.

Where was everything again? Dammit.

"Like I could."

"Oh, what's that now?" she taunts. "Where's your magic?"

"Not here," he laughs. "I can't do the things you do."

Link sighs and starts to shuffle his way in the dark. Gods damn the queen! How far is he from the table? The queen's laughter bubbles up when he hits the chair. He mutters curses and insults her way, but Queen Zelda pays it no mind, especially when it crescendos after she tosses one of her boots at him. If he could find his way out, he would, dammit. He trips over the stupid pieces of leather, adding additional insult to injury. Dammit, dammit, dammit.

She is just having too much fun.

"Can I get a hint?" he groans. "I can't even see to get out of here."

"Exit's that way," she says with good humor. Din, what way? He whines about it, stumbling into… something else. The queen shoots off another tiny ball of light. It illuminates some of the objects as it flits past, but it's too fast for him to catch. The light is extinguished once it strikes the canvas of the tent.

Instead of going out the exit like he's threatened numerous times at this point, he manages, in his mind by miracle, to find her in the inky darkness. She squeals a little when he captures her in his arms.

"What's with you tonight?" he questions as she tries to squirm away from him. He lets her go.

The queen replies, "I don't want to think about tomorrow anymore."

He's not sure how to respond. "Then… don't?"

Her husky chuckle reaches his ears. "Easier said than done," she informs him. "Stay with me? It's a lot harder if I'm by myself."

"It's either that," he says with false venom in an attempt to humor her, "or be tripped trying to find my way out.

"I don't want to think about it either, though," Link admits.

"Oi."

The pair lapses into silence, and eventually Link kicks off his boots and feels around for the blanket. He sidles up next to the queen and wraps himself around her.

Her voice is soft, betraying her front of strength and power. "What do you think will happen?"

"I have no idea," he whispers. "I just hope the boy makes it out."

It takes her a moment, but she replies in agreement. Colin is young, but he would have everything stripped from him in the coming morning.

"And the men?"

"Enjoying what they've got, as they should."

"Are you?"

Her slyness makes him laugh. "I am, thank you."

"I'm going to sleep," the queen declares. There's a sharp intake of air, and then it rattles from her as she struggles not to let it go as she picks her next words. "When I wake… you'll still be here, right?"

"Right."

"And the day after?"

"Every day after."

The coming dawn doesn't bring a let up in the fog. Atop her horse, the queen scowls as she scans the fields as the Hyruleans march forward, away from camp. She growls to Link, "Can't even see farther than a quarter of a league." She calls forward one of her commanders as knights and archers pass them by like water around rocks. Link turns a deaf ear to their conversation and instead takes a mild interest in watching as a trebuchet is moved across the foggy plains.

"Link?" calls the queen, and he looks up to her. "Are you alright?" The commander trots off and starts directing men.

"Fine, milady."

"Where's the boy?"

"I left Colin back at camp with Epona."

She closes her eyes briefly and breathes in deep. "I will pray for his safety in all this."

Link smiles a little.

Queen Zelda holds out her hand to him, and Link takes it, squeezing it tight. He relishes the moment, and tries to commit her touch to memory as he watches the troops file past.

"Take up your bow," the queen commands.

**…**

His eyes click open, and Link looks around. He's a little surprised to see that in front of him is a mane of red hair instead of blonde pulling away from him. With one hand he reaches out and touches her face. He sees his fingers make contact with her cheek, but there's no feeling, no sensation come from the touch. If there is one thing he truly missed, it was the ability to feel things. Really feel. He can see, he can hear, he can even speak, but the feeling of fabrics, of the grass underfoot, of concrete and brick… He is either ignorant, or he can't remember it at all. Even amputees who have lost a hand or both still have the capacity to feel something touching them. He has hands, but what's the use of them if the textures of the world are now so foreign to him?

He looks over, and there she is, still asleep next to him. Zelda's chest rises and falls under twisted sheets, and he has to wonder what she thinks of him now.

He had been dreaming again. For a moment, when his eyes close, he can still see his queen in the midst of battle. Her voice carrying over the cries of the knights from atop her horse. There were flickering, fleeting moments he saw his brother in those dreams, though the bulk of his dreaming was spent reliving his queen's last siege, and he chalks it all up to having shared another memory. What he can't make sense of though is that this didn't happen when he shared memories with the light spirits. He's never told her, but the reason he gave the spirits his memories in the first place was a way to ensure his longevity, as depraving and bleak as that may seem. Each memory is another piece of himself, a piece of his own lost magic.

Marin slowly raises her hand to meet his. He can see the way her fingers curl around his prosthetic limb, but once again, the feeling is totally lost on him. Foreign. Marin's face crumples, eyes brimming with salty tears, and her mouth stretches into a fine frown. With one last look at his companion, he rises from the bed and slips out of the room with the redhead. The door clicks shut softly behind them. Zelda doesn't even stir.

"Go for a walk?" Marin asks him, pulling herself together.

He shrugs. Why not? She's already turned him on.

"So you followed us back?" he asks as she starts to lead the way into town. It's a little amusing. Just a little. "Did you pick the lock?" he wonders aloud.

Marin doesn't answer him, but he assumes the answer to both questions is a "yes".

Eventually, she slows so she can walk next to him. Her arms are folded across her chest. He glances around the empty street of Kakariko, and Link taps Marin on the arm. She stops walking. "What time is it?" he asks.

"Around two," she says, and he nods.

She sighs and looks away as she slips one arm through his. This. He isn't used to this with her. It's strange. Unfamiliar. "What's the matter?" asks Link. Lewd comments and inappropriate advances, he is used to. If only he were a real man. Flesh and blood. Right? He's always known that it didn't mean much due to his condition, but he's also known that there was some merit behind all the teasing. What did anybody really expect though? He was a mechanical abomination after all.

"What's the point?" she growls, and he's a little taken aback with her tone.

The point? Of this walk? Of his existence? Of hers? What's the point of anything, really? He's existed now for a few hundred years, and nothing really changes. Nothing changes at all. How perpetually boring. People are just as callous, silly and careless as before when he was actually human. Even Link is not exempt from this. He tossed aside lives before, thrown aside emotions with abandon. He's cheated and lied, this Link cannot deny. How else was he to continue to exist?

Exist. Right. That's the correct word for this. Existing is simply not the same thing as living is at all.

"You're not a hassle, Link," the redhead promises him. "Or a burden."

"I never said I was."

Marin gives him a sharp glare. "Link," she sighs.

"I believe that I can be human again," he tells her with a conviction he isn't totally sure that he actually has.

This makes Marin blink and her jaw slackens a little. She's in total disbelief. "What? _How_?" Is that a little hint of, dare he think, hope?

But how indeed.

"I… I don't know!" he confesses. "I just _know_ that… that it's possible now." Gut feelings… is this one of them? Not having an actual gut for decades and decades kind of makes the term a bit archaic, or is that not the word he's looking for? However, if he is being truly honest, he'd tell Marin this hinged on Zelda and her magic… _his_ magic, but Marin seems to understand anyway that this has something to do with the blonde. Suddenly Marin's original question makes more sense to him in this light.

Huh.

Wonders never cease. Right?

Marin is rough around the edges, sure, but Link realizes that she is actually quite delicate. Her work with the carnival was superficial at best. She teased men who willingly paid her. Her voice is her blessing, but it was wasted on the handsy drunks that eagerly threw her rupees. It hardened her and crushed her inside. And it was probably all his fault- no. It was completely his fault. What kind of self-deluded dolt would he be if he cannot own up to such a grievous offense? She followed him deep into the carnival lifestyle not knowing or understanding the truth of what he actually is until it was much too late, and she'd been caught up in the whirlwind of the carnival.

She is but one of many whom he has stepped on without much thought. Careless as ever, that's what he is.

So here they are at their stalemate.

She sees right through him, Marin. Her eyes narrow, and she demands from Link the absolute truth. "Because of that girl?" she bites.

Thank Farore he isn't a real man with flesh and blood. He'd likely seize up under her scrutinizing gaze. Instead, he stares back, stoic.

Let's be honest though. "I can't leave her," Link tells her.

"Link-"

"Do you really want to hear the honest truth, straight from Nayru, Marin?"

She sucks in a breath, and her eyes widen a little. Her eyelids flutter a little. Marin doesn't respond verbally to him though.

"It's not about keeping myself operating." Hardly. Sure, it is a nice perk of having her around, but he isn't even completely honest with Zelda. He dodges her bullets until she gives up and deflects inquiries with half-truths. No, it was hardly about keeping her around to keep functioning in this body.

Link knows without any shred of doubt that he needs her even down to the basic level; without her, he just might unravel. He won't admit that to her though. At least not now. Hence his half-truths and sidestepping. From the moment he saw Zelda, however, he knew who she was. The golden magic leaking from Zelda's core was the giveaway he'd been waiting for. It took ages for her to come back to him. He's assured her before that she wasn't a replacement, but in some convoluted way, he supposes that was a lie as well. Or was it the truth after all? Is she one person or two?

Nayru! Why is everything so complicated?

There's a little piece of him that whispers to him how he must be delusional after all, but he just brushes it aside.

Complicated.

Yes. Right.

"I love her," he admits. Always had. Always will. Zelda has changed over the years, but at the core she is still the same. Her voice has changed, her eyes are different. She isn't a Harkinian in the least, but she has that look, that disposition, that enigma to her that his princess, his queen had. For Nayru's sake, she even has the same name – a fluke, at best, but still. Nothing truly changes. His conviction and his loyalty hasn't changed, and he says, "I need to keep her safe." He failed her once before; he replays that moment often enough, but he won't fail her again.

Marin pulls back. "And how long do you think this whole thing is going to last?"

Link shrugs. Marin has a point. Will this awful dystopia end with the current president? Or does he have successors in place to ensure the continued fear and suppression of the state? How far will the bounds against magic stretch? Until there's nothing left for the people to work with? Link also has to wonder how much time Zelda has on this earth. How likely it is that he'll find her again in her next life, should things come to that, Farore forbid. The uncertainty of it all is just an itch he can't scratch, which is altogether another strange concept to him.

What _does_ an itch actually feel like?

Marin looks skeptical at best. She refolds her arms and stares at her shoes.

"I'm sorry, Marin." And he is. While he is relieved to know she made it out from the fire and the squads with little harm, he was originally relieved that his burden with her was gone. Marin's sudden reappearance in his life – existence, rather - has put that added weight back on. Farore knows, he was happy to just shed this whole thing from himself after the fire rather than deal with it. Coward.

Sometimes, he actually hates being honest. It's easier to tell lies at times, and this is certainly one of those times.

The way she looks at him now tugs at a heart that no longer exists. He has no organs, no blood. He has a careful system of gears, tubing and wiring within him. Other than that, he is an empty shell. Maybe if he wasn't so callous and cold, he would have realized what he was doing to the poor girl before she signed her life away to the carnival. The fact, though, is that he is. Link is just that cold.

An image of his brother, Sir Raven, comes to mind.

Link can't help the feeling of bitterness that comes along with Raven and his family. Goddesses. He'll need some other help if he ever comes to face them for judgment after what transpired between him and his family, because any soft spot he has left is reserved for the queen. Or Zelda. Or are they one in the same?

Didn't he already try to define that?

Marin squeezes her eyes shut, trying to suppress the stinging in her eyes. "Link-" she tries, but he won't have it.

"If I stay, I'll only bring you trouble." This is the truth. Honest.

"Then why bring _her _trouble?"

Link shakes his head. She doesn't understand. "This goes deeper than you think, Marin."

She tries to convince him that he'll be fine, but he doesn't believe it. He knows it's not true, and somewhere deep down, Marin has to know it too. It's just not possible. If he were to stay, he'd be a sitting duck, and he didn't want to even think of the possibilities of where that would land Marin and Darunia. There just aren't any good outcomes. He can only imagine the kind of frenzy that would stir if anybody realized his most basic truth at this point. No longer can he parade around with the freaks of the world on show for the oddity that he is. This is not a time to showboat his strangeness. It would just be an utter wreck if Ghirahim's force knew that magic tied him to a machine.

There aren't any good outcomes ever it seems like.

"Is that all, Marin?" It's a little cold, but Link doesn't think he can really afford to coddle her ego much more.

Marin shrugs.

He reiterates, "I really am sorry."

She cracks him a rueful smile. Unfolding her arms, she takes hold of his suspenders and pulls her to him. He can't tell without any doubt, even with his eyes open, but he's sure she brings her lips to his. When she pulls away, she laughs lightly to herself.

"Your skin feels so weird," she tells him.

"If only I was real."

"If only."

**…**

Link slips back into the room, careful not to disturb Zelda. When the door shuts, he sees her still on the bed, eyes closed and breathing steady. Her chest rises and falls slowly. With that little stream of moonlight falling on her face, she reminds him of his queen from so long ago. Her hair is darker and her eyes are different, but she has that delicate look to her that's so deceiving.

Link goes to sit down in his chair, but he quickly thinks better of it. If she woke up at all and saw him on the bed, she'd know something was up… hm. Link hopes that she never noticed him missing to begin with, but judging by the heavy state of sleep, he feels at least assured she never stirred during his outing. He settles himself back on the bed and lets his head rest against the headboard. Zelda shifts slightly from the sudden movement of the mattress, but other than that, she doesn't seem to have noticed anything at all.

Yes, he'll do what he can for her, that much he is sure of.

He mutters, more to himself than to her, "What am I going to do with you?"

Link frowns a little.

The clock shows it's just after three in the morning.

He wiggles his feet around. Of course there's nothing. No cracking of joints. No pull of the muscles in his calves.

Link looks back to Zelda, still tangled in sheets as he left her. Careful to watch himself, he pushes aside the tendrils of gold from her face and forehead. Her nose scrunches a little, and he almost laughs aloud. There's only a slight crackle in the speaker box. He touches a finger to her forehead and lets it trail down to her chest, right above her steady beating heart, one that he cannot feel.

He told her once, he's sure, that he didn't have any magic. It was sort of a lie – there he goes again. Inwardly, he scoffs at himself. She valued his honesty so much before… is it really protecting her now to hide things? He ponders it for only a little bit with no real conclusion. She has her secrets now, and so does he. He has no idea what all she does when he's turned off, though he has plenty of suspicions and the only one to hold any merit was the spirits gifting her his memories. She's even neglected to turn him on in favor of doing these other things. Whatever they are or were. The fact of the matter is, he does have magic. He just doesn't have magic that's effectively useable. Most of it is tied up in containing his spirit in his current body, but he can spare just a little to give her a memory of one of his darker hours, and he can spare just a little more to check up on her.

Link can see her core. The gold magic has swelled. He's certain that the only person he's ever encountered to have a larger core than her may have been Malladus. Her core has certainly grown larger since the last time he checked on it, but it's still nowhere near what she had before. She's learning the tools of the trade though. Little lights, her old favorite, to catch fireflies for a little girl, bending fire and teleportation… what will come next in her bag of tricks?

He can feel the tendrils of dark, leathery wings within her, her inner alarm system. They give a short flap in recognition of his touch. From his touch, some of the gold magic also recognizes him. Vines spring forth in welcome to him, and they stretch their long fingers to try and reach him. The effort makes him smile. It's comforting. Fi, his most trusted weapon, doesn't even recognize him anymore. The vines wrap protectively around her core, but he coerces them to retreat, telling them, "You're not needed right now, go back to sleep." The vines follow his command, albeit with reluctance, and once gone, he notices something new. Has Zelda seen this yet? Or has it slipped its way in without drawing her attention? She wasn't fully aware of the golden magic growing within her at the beginning; it was always with her, lying dormant. But this, this is subtle - quiet - as well. A small sprout just slightly protrudes from her core. If he wasn't so sure that the vines had withdrawn, he would have mistaken it for the wiry greenery. Is this something going rogue? Or his old magic trying to manifest itself in a new way within her?

He withdraws from her core, and the tendrils of his old magic try to grapple with him to stay. "Stay with her," he commands, "I have no need for you."

This is what binds them. This is the red thread of fate between them. He wouldn't change it for the world. He has no use for it these days. No flesh and no bone and no blood – he's not exactly an ideal conductor. Each memory is a new seed. She carries within her the important pieces of himself.

Though he's not sure if he actually touches her, Link leans over and his silicone lips brush her skin.

Of course there's nothing. There never is.

With nothing else to do, his eyes click closed, and he shuts himself down. Ever ready is he for whatever the dream world wishes to conjure up again. Maybe he should consider the idea that he doesn't just turn off, but actually sleep.

Or maybe this is just one step towards humanity again.

**…**

It's dark. The only light source in the cabin is coming from the fire roaring in the hearth. Link lies on a table in the center of the one room cabin. Fruitlessly, he tries to raise his arms. He groans a little. Having a voice is about all he has at this point. It was simply too much energy for him to expend to try and move having spent so much of his magic attempting to save himself. Producing his voice magically was hard enough, and he had some choice words to say.

How in the world did he end up here though?

He was foolish, that he is sure of.

The door to the cabin swings open, and a blond man carrying a load of firewood steps in. He has Link's face and eyes and hair and body, but he is most certainly _not _Link, for Link is stuck on an old, rotting table. Not Link tosses the wood by the hearth and approaches the table, twisting Link's features into sinister satisfaction. His hands slam down on the table, but Link does not utter a sound. At least not at first.

Right. That bastard.

Gathering up the last of his magic reserves, he uses it to bellow at Not Link. "MALLADUS!" he screeches, and begins his tirade of cursing. Malladus laughs, and picks Link up. Fi, the ancient sword - _his_ sword – is strapped to the back of Link's original body. The sight enrages him. Malladus, the bastard, has no right.

"You're not quite as intimidating anymore when you're a simple rag doll, you know," he taunts Link, who sways a little as Malladus dangles him from one hand. "Still, that's a foul mouth you have there. It's very unbecoming for someone of _your_ station. We'll have to do something about that won't we?" Malladus lets Link drop.

It is taking everything Link had left to continue his howling insults while Malladus calmly digs around the cabin. He lets out a triumphant grunt when he comes across a sewing kit. Malladus settles in at the table and threads a needle. Tendrils of magic spread out from his – Link's - thumb and index finger and weave into the thread. He hums to himself, unfazed by Link's creative accusing comments. At ease with himself, Malladus smirks. "This will shut you up now," he says. "I can't kill you, but I can at least have some quiet."

Link's vocal protests begin to diminish. With each passing of the needle, he feels his magic being restricted, and he is robbed of his speech. The needle pokes through the hardy fabric of the rag doll's face, each stitch overlapping the mouth. In a couple minutes, Link is rendered mute. Malladus carelessly lets Link slap back onto the table.

One of the windows shatters. The glass is blown straight in. Malladus manages to dodge the rock that sailed through the window. His hand – Link's hand – flies back to Fi's hilt. The door is kicked in, and Link feels a tidal wave of relief. Thank Farore! Dressed in dark blues and black with a cowl covering half his face, Link has never been happier to see the Sheikah. Sheik draws a slim, short blade with one hand. With the other he flings needles at Malladus.

"Where is Sir Link?" he growls as Malladus is struck by the needles, which only prevents him from drawing Fi for just a few precious seconds.

Malladus bursts with laughter. "Why, I _am_ Sir Link now!"

Sheik's eyes narrow dangerously, and they quickly scan the cabin. "I will not allow you to masquerade as my lord Link so long as I am breathing!"

Link's thoughts are racing. What energy he had he essentially depleted. What can he do? He needs to get Sheik's attention somehow. Link lies helplessly on the table as Sheik moves in to strike Malladus. Magic was never really his strong suit, dammit! His core is crying under the strain of use, but Link digs as deep as he can go, begging to Farore for help. Malladus draws Fi and blocks Sheik's initial strike, and Link struggles to find anything that he might be able to use in his core.

Sheik is able to quickly get the upper hand in the tight battle, and he cries out, "You are not worthy of such a sword!" It becomes clear to Link that his beautiful friend knows that the man that wields her now is not Link at all. While Malladus was able to patch up Link's body for his use after their battle, Link can see that his movements are rapidly getting slower. The blade digs into the dirt floor of the cabin, too heavy now for Malladus to wield. Malladus curses to himself, not expecting this turn of events. He abandons the sword, but Sheik is too fast. Sheik manages to wrestle Malladus face down to the ground.

Holding the head of Link's body to the dirt, Sheik takes his own blade and quickly, albeit clumsily, cuts out one eye. Malladus thrashes under Sheik's weight, only making the injury worse as Sheik cannot follow the erratic movements. He lets Malladus go, who swings out with wild abandon at Sheik. The warrior grabs hold of the poker, sticking it into the hearth and flames. With one controlled kick, Sheik strikes Malladus right in the chest and sends him back into the cabin wall. He draws out the hot poker and brings it to the unmarred side of Malladus' new face. "You will never be my lord Link!" The flesh sizzles under the heat, and Malladus also burns his new hand grappling at the poker.

All the while, Link is still praying to Farore and gasping for every last bit he can in his withering core. There's a golden warmth that's ignited in Link's magical core, and with all his desperation, he latches onto it. It will not be contained, however. The magic bursts through Link. Magnificent golden vines spring forth. They rise out between the threads in the fabric of the rag doll. Leaves stretch forth. When Sheik turns and sees the sight, his eyes widen, and he gasps. "L-Link?" he stutters. He glances one last time at Malladus, writhing on the ground and howling. The Sheikah grabs hold of Fi, who takes a moment to consider him before relenting. With Link's sword in one hand, he swipes up Link the rag doll and escapes into the woods.

Later, when he is out of breath and exhausted from the rush of adrenaline and run, Sheik falls back onto a tree to catch his breath before scaling up the trunk. He picks a sturdy branch to rest himself on, and he leans back against the trunk to examine Link in his new body of a child's rag doll. The golden vines on Link have receded for the most part by this point, and Sheik notices the stitching across the doll's mouth. He pulls a dagger from the inside of his boot and carefully cuts at the stitches and pulls the threads out. He stares at Link, who has not spoken to him. "Is that better?" he asks hesitantly.

When Link still doesn't respond, Sheik reaches out and taps into Link's magical core. "Farore!" he gasps at the saddened state of Link's core. "Hold on!" Sheik pulls from his own core to feed magic to Link. Once Link's core is nourished enough, Sheik asks him to try and speak once more.

"Take the sword back," Link instructs weakly.

"Of course."

Sheik stare down at the rag doll in his hands. So lifeless, yet so real. He sighs. "You're quite lucky that Her Majesty requested that I keep an eye on you."

Link is too weak to respond. Too worn out from the magical strain. This suits Sheik just fine though, and he lets Link rest up on his lap. Sheik's eyes droop closed and he prays that nothing unpleasant will rouse him from his sleep.

**…**

This time, that familiar head of gold stands over him when he turns on. His eyes flick over to the window where sunlight weakly drifts in. It must be cloudy out. Zelda backs away to let him up, telling him all the while that she's got everything packed. He nods it off. "What time is it?" he asks.

"About eight," she replies. "We should get out of here."

"Let's get you breakfast first," he says. He eyes her sweater. "Should we try and get you something warmer after?"

"Depends on where we're going." Zelda shakes her head then pushes her bangs out of the way, and Link notices for the first time how long her blonde hair has grown over their travels. Bangs that just brushed above her eyes now hang well below her cheeks. How long have they been at this now? He didn't want to think about it too much. Time was so irrelevant to him. One year meant so much to a normal person, but to him, one year was but a drop in the bucket.

How tiring.

"It wouldn't hurt to get you something else, just in case."

"We're running out of cash, Link," she reminds him.

He scowls a little at her. "I have a few rupees in with the accordion… or at least I should."

"Link, that's your seed money." Zelda's face wrinkles, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.

Link shrugs. Seed money won't be much use until they get to… well, wherever they end up. He could scrounge up something, he sure, if he needs to encourage tips.

It is to be a busy morning in Kakariko, whether the residents and visitors know it or not. At the diner, patrons are sparse, though Link and Zelda chalk it up to just having missed the morning rush. She cradles her head with one hand and stares blankly at her coffee. While he misses wine and mead, there is one thing about drinking that Link does not miss at all. He doesn't envy her ability to feel at all at this point in time, but there is the slight sting of bitterness that she can at all. For him, there is just nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

The crunch of rubber on pavement sounds in the meantime outside on Main Street, blocks from the diner. The procession is slow, and President Ghirahim clicks his tongue impatiently. The slow pace and identifying flags on the front of the car as well as the many security escorts draws attention from the townspeople. He can see the way they line up to peek out the windows, or stop dead on the street to stare at the luxurious car.

He'd gotten a strange report from the force sent down into Ordon and the surrounding woods. A woman - blonde, possibly blue-eyed and just over five foot, petite, Hylian – apparently not only had the ability to use magic, but she was able to _teleport_. He growls to himself, just thinking about the girl. Who _was_ she to so blatantly display such gall? He has no name for her and no other information beyond a physical description, which he can't completely depend on. Honestly, how hard is it to just give a couple of details? Incompetent. All of them. They couldn't even contain one woman, though the president surmises that her magic must be something else if she was capable of teleporting.

The report also detailed a very odd magical object, if it was an object at all. The men had stated the woman wasn't alone, and teleported herself and a man. A man! She could move _two_ people. This was also the problem. He was a man, but not? It didn't seem possible, but those dolts were insistent that the Lenses revealed him to be a magically imbued object. What a mess. He was supposedly a something or other that stood around six foot, blond with Hylian ears as well. Had some sort of strange skin condition. There was conflict on whether his eyes were blue or grey, but the president cannot bring himself to care. It seems like such a mundane detail.

Ghirahim scowls to himself. It is much too early to start ruining his day.

If this woman is to have the abilities that the men have claimed, she is dangerous. A threat to his cause. Stupid Hylians. Without magic, Hyrule is at his feet, and he savored every bit of it. He'd been in hiding for far too long, slowly biding his time and regaining his strength after that little runt from the Sky sealed his Master away. President Ghirahim is not taking his chances this time. He has been able to so far stamp out any attempt at rebellion, and in doing so, he has started to consider that maybe that damn, rotten boy from the Sky and _Her Grace _– ugh, how vile, the title even leaves a bad taste in his mouth - haven't been reincarnated. Good riddance.

He'd sent the report of the incident off to Malladus to look into, but the crafty bastard passed it right back, pinning it on incompetent men who could not remember anything correctly. While the president can agree with that sentiment, he couldn't help the prickling feeling that there was truth to it. Who was this daring woman and that… thing? So he had Malladus spread the descriptions around to stationed Guard and squads in the slim hopes of finding a hit.

And what luck!

This part is what lifts his spirits, makes his morning a little better. President Ghirahim feels a little smugness at his luck. How fabulous! A pair of drifters matching the description had been seen around Kakariko, and he didn't want to take his chances with another botched attack. He would take care of this problem personally.

Oh, he'd crush them.

First things first, however. He needs to find these two anomalies. Then he could stamp them out, too.

* * *

><p>Frohe Weinachten!<p>

Sooo, do you guys still like Link now? Haha. I know we haven't seen Marin in a long while, but I hope she someone you can be a little more sympathetic to, considering what Link has said about her in earlier chapters (six? seven?). And we officially have Ghirahim making an appearance! We will see more of his fabulousness. Promise. Super promise. Like next chapter promise.

I didn't write for like two weeks. My grandmother, with help from my visiting siblings, picked out the Zelda 3DS for me. I've been trying to save for one to play the new game for a while now, but something always came up. The sad part is, I haven't even really gotten to play the new Zelda much; my sister and I have been playing Animal Crossing, and I've been competing against her boyfriend in Pokemon. This was my holiday, alongside booze. Lots of booze. My family literally all piled into the car Christmas Eve and drove to the liquor store together, and we bought Christmas there. Ironically, my mutti mailed us all new flasks. Many jokes about us all being alcoholics and swearing at the television as my brother squashed everybody in Street Fighter were had. We also played Superman 64; we did not get past the initial stupid ring levels.

Anyway, I hope you guys all had a wonderful holiday and Hogmanay with your families and were safe. My year did not end on the best note, but I'm hopeful for the new one, and I wish you guys all the same. If you had the pleasure of working retail this season (or displeasure, you know), you are a brave soldier on the front line, and I salute you; I know those feels, bro. SO MUCH.

A Richt Guid Hogmanay tae ye a'!

:3


	16. The World is a Passerby

Coin-Operated

16.0

The World is a Passerby

Sheik is a man of his word, especially when it comes to his mistress, the queen. Queen Zelda had requested that he keep an eye on her beau, so he has. When she was killed in battle, and de Hyrule took the throne, he never swore de Hyrule allegiance and maintained his vigilant eye on the green knight. The knight is lucky that Sheik has been keeping watchful eyes on him. The poor lad is not so lucky in that Sheik wasn't able to prevent his soul from being ripped from his body. After his skirmish with Malladus, Sheik had run with the Link the rag doll to the plains of Eldin and then traveled to the mountains to settle in the tiered farmlands.

The Sheikah looks out from the window to see rolling clouds that are weighted and dark. He frowns to himself. The house isn't large, but it isn't small either. It has a few separate rooms, so Sheik is allotted his own room and privacy, which he is thankful for. He shares it with one of the remaining Sheikah elders, a tiny woman whom is mentor, Impa, was named after. Impaz is frail in her old age, but her personality is as strong as ever. Sometimes Sheik dreads days like this when rain is about to come as being cooped up with the little woman could be difficult. Her hearing has been going for the past few years, though she blames their misunderstandings on Sheik rather than her poor hearing.

Sheik groans at the prospect of being in the house due to the coming storm. He hates the rain. He likes being able to be outdoors and enjoying the earth and the fresh mountain air; he really hates being wet.

Impaz is hunched over a pot. If there is one thing he does like about living with the little woman, it was that she knew how to cook. He'd been able to nab some rabbit meat from the market, and Impaz has it cooking in the stew over the fire. The salted, herbal scent of the stew wafts through the house, tempting his nose and stomach.

Sheik turns away from the window to address his elder. "Impaz," he calls, and she hums in acknowledgement. She takes a wooden spoon and dips it into the pot for a taste. Grumbling about it needing more salt, she stirs the pot. "I'm going to put Tael in and get Link before the rain comes." She mutters back, and Sheik isn't sure if she's speaking to herself or to him. He clears his throat and moves a little closer to her. "Impaz, did you hear me?"

She whaps him with the spoon, right over the knuckles on his raised hand. Before Sheik can blink, his elder is back bending over the stew. "I heard you!" she insists as he rubs his knuckles.

Sheik throws his hands up. "Well I wasn't sure!"

"Don't take that tone with me, boy."

When he groans again in exasperation, she smacks him again.

"Now get that poor boy inside before the storm comes."

Sheik troops out of the house, quietly cursing to himself. Tael isn't far off from the home and stables, much to the Sheikah's relief. Wind whips from the east, rippling the sparse vegetation on the mountainside and making Sheik shiver a little as he runs down the dirt path leading to the fields. He'd need to start bringing out the stored clothing for the coming winter, though he will probably put it off until Impaz begins to fuss at him over it. Tael, however, isn't bothered by the cold winds. Instead he lazily clops around, picking at little patches of grass within the fenced area. His ears perk a little when he hears his master approach, and the black gelding bucks his head and whinnies as Sheik throws himself over the fence. Sheik reaches out and rubs the horse's nose.

Sheik is mostly glad that the horse gives him little trouble when Sheik goes to stable him. He hands the content gelding an apple for a treat after making sure the gelding is secure in the stall. "I'll check up on you once the storm passes," Sheik promises Tael before leaving. He locks up the stables and hustles off to the crops where he'd last left Link.

"Link!" calls Sheik as he hops down from one terrace to the next. Link's movement is limited, but he shakes a little and turns his head back as much as he can. The straw inside him crinkles with the movement. When Sheik approaches him, the Sheikah goes round to face Link and places a hand on Link's chest. Sheik feels for Link's core. "How're the fields?" asks Sheik as he begins to feed his magic into Link's magical core.

"Same as always," says Link. "Although, I have seen some bokoblins on the horizon."

"Well, I'm going to take you inside before the rain starts. Alright?"

Sheik doesn't expect a response from Link. He stoops, grabbing hold of Link the scarecrow from the pole that's smashed into the ground. He struggles a little to pull Link loose from the soil, but eventually he gets his scarecrow friend free. He carries Link up the tiered terraces of crops back up to the house.

"Impaz is making rabbit stew," Sheik says conversationally.

Link hums.

Sheik feels a prickling of sympathy for the knight turned rag doll then scarecrow. Link enjoys being outdoors as much as Sheik does, but Sheik knows he can't enjoy the sweet smell of flowers in the spring, the salty air of summer, the spice of autumn or the crisp bite of snow in the winter. Link can't enjoy the rush of a run through the terraces. With Epona dead and his body no more, he can't feel the thundering of her hooves as she carries him through mountain passes.

He sighs as he reaches the house.

Impaz helps Sheik situate Link in his corner of the house's main room. Impaz fingers Link's clothing while Sheik begins spooning two bowls of the stew for himself and Impaz. "Your clothes are getting so ratty," she grumbles to Link. Impaz pats out the thinning vest on Link's chest. "I'll make you some new ones, dearie."

"It's not much of an issue," Link tells her.

"Hush yourself, child!" she snaps. "I won't have you looking all worn out."

"Impaz," Sheik says to catch her attention. She turns her sharp gaze on him and inspects his slouched posture.

"Sit up, boy," she instructs. "And get your elbows off the table." Sheik slides his arms off the table and straightens up. Sheik groans when she starts ranting. "Honestly! I know they taught you better manners than that at the castle. Did none of it get through your thick skull?"

"Impaz," he pleads.

"Sit straight!"

Sheik straightens out once more and sneers a little when he hears Link's soft laughter float from the corner. "I was thinking maybe I should take Link on a trip."

Impaz seats herself with a huff. "What kind of trip are you thinking? He can't go like _that_," she says. Her wrinkled hand waves out, gesturing to Link's scarecrow form.

The younger Sheikah rolls his eyes. "Well obviously, I wouldn't be toting around a scarecrow," he retorts. "I was thinking maybe I could build marionette over the winter. We can leave in the spring and seek out the light guardians."

"I can't promise you that they'll be able to do much for him," Impaz says, her stern tone fleeing from her voice. She softens some as she turns to Link. "If I thought there was anything they could do, I would have sent you to them a long time ago."

"It's worth a shot," Sheik insists. "Right Link?"

"Maybe…" he says with hesitation. "How are you even sure they exist?"

Impaz immediately fluffs back up. "Don't question me!"

"We can't leave him like this though," Sheik argues.

Impaz shakes her head. She sets her spoon down and bows her head with a heavy sigh. "You should start making plans for what to do with him when you and I are both gone."

**…**

Malladus paces his office. He stands at just over six feet with dark hair and crystal eyes. Long gone are his days as an angular blond with sharp cobalt eyes. The president's master had promised him immortality long ago, but Malladus is bitter with the knowledge of having received the short end of the stick on the deal. He has been given great magical ability, but it frustrats him to no end that he is in an almost constant search for new vessels for his soul.

He supposes he can masquerade as this man for another few decades before old age starts to get the better of him. Wrinkles. Grey hair. Fat. It disgusts him.

He chews the inside of his cheek as he paces. Ghirahim has allotted him a nice space in the castle for work and has given him a great deal of political power, but it doesn't exactly make up for his botched deal. Sure, it has a nice view, the furniture is of excellent quality and the job itself is cushy, but this isn't what he had envisioned when he made a plea for immortality.

He approaches his desk and plops himself down into the swivel chair. A radio crackles in one corner, but Malladus doesn't really listen to it much. His attention is on the paperwork sitting before him. Some new books are coming in from Calatia, and the desert people who had obtained copies are going wild for the texts. Texts in which magic is praised. They need to be eradicated. He toys with the idea of taking a leisure trip out the desert. It could easily be put off as him overseeing the book burning. He might even entertain the idea of bedding some desert bear cat.

It's all so terribly dull.

Malladus had originally envisioned himself as a beacon of power with his eternal life… not some government drone.

What irks him more than anything, however, is the way Ghirahim had some MITF reports thrown onto his desk. This certainly put a damper on Malladus' mood, even more so when he realized what they were dealing with. Malladus reaches over to one corner of his desk and flips open his humidor. He plucks a cigar out and shuts the lid and pulls up the copy he'd made of the report. He failed to give the president any knowledge he'd had on the incident, but Malladus knows exactly who he's looking at. It doesn't take an idiot to figure it out. He clips one end of the cigar and lights it. The savory smoke fills his mouth, and he pushes it back out in a jet of air.

The woman is a bit of a mystery, but the object she had with her, the so called man, is another thing. Malladus flips open a worn book. Holding his place in the book are the sketches of the man and woman. He sets aside the woman's drawing and focuses on the man. Of course there's no way this man could be Raven Coutts, a knight of the Harkinian Horos. However, Malladus can easily fit together the pieces.

Surprise, surprise.

So the wiry bastard has made it out all these years. How stupid. His teeth grind a little on the butt of his cigar. The sketch resembles the portrait of Sir Raven in the book, and the brothers looked very much a like in their later years. Malladus can only conclude that this object – man, rather – is actually Link Coutts.

Malladus is still bitter about that situation as well.

There was a Sheikah that tailed the knight the night Malladus challenged him. What Malladus didn't anticipate was that the knight had magic, and very large and powerful amount. The knight had held his own quite well, though his command of magic in combat was weak. Malladus had thought the man would be easily bested; he didn't count on having to fight his host for control once he wormed his way in.

What was it that Malladus threw him into?

A doll. A rag doll.

Well, well. Looks like the doll got a bit of an upgrade.

The cigar starts to leave a sour taste in Malladus' mouth. The Sheikah made sure the damage Malladus' spoils from the battle. He'd marred one side of Malladus' new face and gouged out the opposite eye, making sure that Malladus couldn't just easily assume the knight's identity. It made him noticeable in a way Malladus didn't appreciate, and he was forced to abandon the vessel in favor a new one in quick succession.

The knight isn't getting his body back, considering it's probably nothing but bones eaten up by the Ordonian woods at this point. Malladus clicks his tongue. He's been quiet for so long, biding his time, so why is this Link Coutts just now stirring up trouble?

Malladus leans back in his chair. He blows out another puff of smoke.

**…**

President Ghirahim sits enjoying his absolutely _divine_ lunch spread. There's no reason he can't enjoy the perks of the simple things life has to offer while he makes progress on his work. There is much to do, and while he has all the time in the world, Ghirahim can't help the prickling feeling that his time is urgent.

The president raises a napkin to pat his mouth.

Two men of the Guard stand watch in the private hotel suite with him with another one on the way. He sits with anticipation as one of the guardsmen answers the suite's door. A few words are exchanged before a ranking officer in the Guard is let in. He approaches the dining table where the president sits at the head and gives a slight bow.

Ghirahim doesn't waste his precious time on pleasantries. "Have the sketches and descriptions been circulated?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well." The president's lips curl. "And what of the men?"

"The Guard and the MITF are being put into position as we speak," says the man. Ghirahim picks up his glass of wine and rolls the liquid around in the glass. He gives the officer a nod. "We will be notified immediately if anything comes up."

"I think I'd like to go for a drive once I've finished lunch," the president says. "See to it that the arrangements are made."

Without another word, the officer bows and makes a hasty exit from the suite.

Ghirahim licks his lips. His tongue slides over the soft flesh as his eyes consider the wine in his hand.

There is a fleeting feeling in his stomach that his time is drawing nearer. That devil and his mistress from the Sky thwarted him once before, but he is better this time. Stronger. More conniving. And far less forgiving. He will make no mistakes this time around, that he must be sure of.

He'd found the shattered remains of Power out in the desert. With one third of the Golden Magic under his control, wrapping up the other two pieces is crucial. If the Triforce is completed once more, there is nothing stopped Ghirahim and his terrible designs from taking fruition. The pervious folly was that his master put his trust in an incarnation that was mortal to bring about the divine calamity upon this earth. The mortal broke the sacred power apart.

Ghirahim, however, will stop at nothing to obtain this power for his master.

He whips platinum hair from his face as he turns to the window looking out on Kakariko. Oh yes, it's the most perfect day to take the most perfect drive. It is to be fabulous, that's for sure.

President Ghirahim cannot wait for the heads to roll.

* * *

><p>A real shorty today compared to my usual, I know, but take a breather. I really wanted to put a little something out at least just in case I ended up getting stuck along the way. My break's almost up, and I'll be back to cramming it up again. I start back on my work again Monday morning. Ugh. Sleeping in has been nice...<p>

I wanted to mention it last chapter but forgot. Have you guys heard of Starbomb? It's a new band between Egoraptor and Ninja Sex Party, and they've written some pretty fantastic songs about video games; the album dropped last month. I'm at a three way tie between the Castlevania, Metroid and Final Fantasy songs for a favorite. The album's explicit, so be warned.

Anyway, next chapter should be back on Link and Zelda. I appreciate the comments, guys, and yes, if there's not a confrontation next chapter, you can go ahead lynch me. I'm kind of glad that while you guys think royal Zelda is awesome and all that jazz, you're rooting for our narrator. I'd say she's pretty reliable as a narrator, although Link has now proved himself to be otherwise, so I'm happy that hasn't caused your opinion of him to totally wane.

Drop a word, and I'll start on the action!

;3


	17. Oh Heart, Please Don't Get Bitter

Coin-Operated

17.0

Oh Heart, Please Don't Get Bitter

Link insists on getting me a heavy coat for the coming winter months, and we are able to find one in a thrift shop, although it's more than I would want to spend. Link tries to assuage me, and he tells me not to worry, because we can always make a few rupees somehow. With autumn starting to come to a close by now, and once we leave Kakariko, I might be in for colder days and nights unless we move south, so at the very least, the purchase is practical. The warmer air of Faron and Ordon, however, don't seem like a feasible option; we'll probably end up somewhere where the frost will bite. Link and I tinker with the idea of heading back to Lake Hylia temporarily, if even to just check on Professor Mizuumi.

The streets are strangely much more crowded today than we've seen the entire time we've been staying in Kakariko. People flit past, sometimes brushing us as they hurry by on the sidewalks. Others ignore traffic and jaywalk across streets with a symphony of car horns to accompany them. I slip one arm with Link's and try to stay close so we won't lose each other as we head to the diner we agreed to meet Marin and Darunia at. He carries on one shoulder our duffel and in his other hand his accordion. He mutters to me, "Was there supposed to be some sort of event today?"

"I don't think so."

He frowns slightly. "Weird."

If there's one thing that's comforting, it's that there are more townsfolk in Kakariko that are Hylian or Goron than human. Walking through the town and into the diner, we're not gaped at for our ears. We easily spot Marin and Darunia in a booth along the back wall by the Goron's massive size and Marin's red hair. Link lets me slide into the booth first and sets our stuff down next to the bench. He returns Darunia's enthusiastic greeting before trying to engage Marin. Her eyes are downcast as she's staring into her coffee and spinning it with a spoon idly. She groans back, not even bothering to form words.

Darunia frowns a little at her. "She's been like this all morning," he declares.

Marin breaks away from her staring contest with her coffee long enough to shoot a glare at Darunia, and I can see that her eyes are blood shot. Dark circles hang under her eyes as well. She goes back to just spinning her coffee around in the cup.

I ask her, "Marin, did you sleep at all?"

She mumbles something in response, but I can't understand.

The redhead looks thinner than I remember. The loss of weight has pulled fat from her cheeks, and she appears a little gaunt.

Darunia shakes his head.

Link finally breaks his gaze from Marin, and he looks to Darunia. "What's up with everybody this morning?" he asks and points a finger out the diner's window. "Everybody's out and about; we haven't seen that as the usual."

Darunia scratches at his chin through his wild beard. "I don't know." He shrugs. "I was going to ask you the same."

"Really?" Link asks, a little incredulously. "We thought that some event might be going on or _something_."

The strongman waves it off. "I asked the waitress earlier, but she didn't have any idea either since she's been on shift all morning." I look around us, and the diner isn't exactly slammed with people, despite the drawing lunch hour. It must have been slow all day prior to us arriving. There's only a few other booths and tables occupied at the moment, and there's a man seated at the counter. While there are customers seated like us, there's not enough to call it the lunch rush.

Though I think the strangeness gnaws on the back of all of our minds – except maybe Marin, who seems to be lost in her own sleep-deprived world – we push it back to just try and enjoy each other for the short time that we have left. Occasionally Darunia's booming laughter startles Marin from her daze, and a crossed, annoyed look flashes over her features as she turns away from him. The Goron nudges her with his elbow. He cracks jokes and makes innuendos that makes Link frown and Marin's exasperation with him grow. Without Darunia around, the table might as well be silent. His loud voice and easy nature puts us at ease, and he keeps the conversation afloat for us.

Once we exit the diner, the curling anticipation in my gut grows. The four of us stand to the side of the diner's entrance, and I realize that I don't really want to leave them again. The slight flapping of the warning wings reminds me that I cannot stay though. My magic is a threat, this much is sure, and Link is an oddity all on his own. Marin sniffles a little, and Darunia opens up his arms for us. It pains us all to separate again, but it's a necessary evil. Link and I throw ourselves at Darunia, and he crushes us back. Letting go makes me feel like I'm plummeting from the top of one of my last pillars of strength.

Marin barely looks my way as she shifts her weight from foot to foot, but she relents, and I'm a little surprised when she gives me a quick embrace. She whispers in my ear, "You _are_ one of us." I'm barely able to return her embrace, let alone answer her, before she pulls away. The redhead keeps her eyes downcast when she turns to Link.

Link wraps Marin up in his arms with gentle care. One arm around her back keeps her pinned to him, and his other hand tangles in her red locks. She hesitates some before throwing up her arms around him.

Darunia slips me a napkin from the diner as well as some cash. The napkin has a phone number scrawled on it, and he tells me to hold on to it just in case. He brings me in for one last squeeze. A thought strikes me as I glance again at the napkin in my hand. I ask Darunia for a favor, which he readily agrees to. "I met a man here by the name of Shad, a historian," I tell him. "Could you keep an eye out for him? He seems to frequent the Shaggy Dog." Darunia grins wide for me, and he promises he will. Anything for a sister.

"Now you have an excuse to call!" he exclaims.

Link lets Marin go and turns to the Goron. "Darunia," Link says. "Check in on Barnes once in a while, yeah? He doesn't even know you're in town."

The Goron's eyebrows raise. "Barnes?" His laughter belts easily through us. "I didn't even know he was still around here!" The giant strongman gives Link a quick salute as Link informs him about Barnes' junkyard. "Can do!" His hand falls limply to the side. "Just make sure to drift on by here again, and we'll call it a deal."

"Call once in a while too," Marin adds.

There's a twisting inside of me as we watch the two go their separate ways; Marin to her dream world and Darunia to clock in for the second shift at his factory. Link swings an arm around my shoulders once they've gone, and he says softly, a slight crackling in his voice, "Come on. Let's get moving, love. We might be able to pick up a ride if go along Route 59 towards the river. We'll just go wherever they can take us."

I nod.

Link asks if I'm alright as he steers me westward.

I shiver a little. I've been trying not to think about it all. It feels like I'm trying to deceive myself once again the reality of where I'm at. I miss Ruto, her big mouth and frivolous gossip. Before all this, I had a nice little flat to come home to everyday instead of a scramble to find somewhere to sleep or the money to pay for lodging. A steady job as a call center supervisor kept food on my table, not an accordion playing machine. I miss Malon and her easy going attitude and friendship with lazy days on the ranch. I was lucky that I was never one to be stuck standing in the bread lines before this mess came whipping through my life. Instead, I'm not so adverse to the idea of waiting for bread, or grabbing a Po' Boy from a soup kitchen when money's low.

I don't have much these days, but it's enough. It's enough even to take my mind off a lot of those things that I've been trying so hard not to think too much about. In some ways, drifting has been good for me. It's let me let go. I've been free to wander in a hazy half-reality-half-dreamlike state.

Doesn't mean that sometimes I don't ache.

I ask Link if he wants me to carry the duffel instead of responding. He frowns a little at my clipped response.

The memory I saw still haunts me most of all.

There's a little part of me that's a bit afraid to look at Link now that there's no Darunia to make the air lighter and no Marin to bring some harsh realism down. Why did he have to show me_ that_? If I turn my head, I can imagine the splattered blood across his cheek and chin from the way he swings a bloody Fi through the air. Even the whistle of the deadly blade cleaving through the air before impact sounds in my ears. The squelch of blood.

He's probably afraid of I think of him. I mean, who wouldn't be?

Despite his frown, I try to give him a cheery smile and loop my arm in his, but his expression does not change.

A part of me whispers how easy it was to just enjoy the simple things life on the road has brought, despite all the chaos within the country.

The grass is still green. Trees this far north may have lost all their leaves at this point, but that doesn't make them any less beautiful to me. The sky is just as moody as it's always been, bringing us sunshine, rain and the night. Cotton ball clouds roll along at lazy ease.

We're almost back to the town's center when Link speaks again. "Those are Guard, right?" he asks, trying to keep his voice low. It's hard to hear him though over the busy chatter at the intersection.

"Huh?"

He points kitty-corner to us.

There's a stirring inside me, and I feel the warning wings perk up in attention. Why in the world would Kakariko be in need of military police? The men across the way dressed sharply in their uniforms don't sit well with me.

We should have left sooner.

Link pulls his tweed cap a little further down in a small attempt to hide his face.

The other Hylians around us cast the Guard curious glances, but the hint of fear in their faces is undeniable when they look upon the uniformed men. When I try to steal another look at the men, Link roughly tugs me a little closer to him. He hisses low to me, "Don't look at them again," and I nod. Noticing them once is normal; they're a peculiar sight, but to openly gawk at them when everyone else is trying to avoid them sends another message. It's a careful balance of interest and disinterest to maintain.

As soon as we can, we slip through the crowed to cross the street and flit past the Guard on the corner across the street. Link gives me quiet reminders to keep looking forward, pay them no mind, until we've passed. The leathery wings shudder a little in relief when no incident arises.

Speaking softly, we debate whether or not it would be best to stick to the main street and blend in, or go down the lesser travelled back alleys. Kakariko has a large population of Hylians, so we wouldn't stick out among the people like we would if we were still in Ordon. We think we've settled on trying to hide in plain sight when shouts ring through from the end of the block we're on. There's a small crowd out front the theater, and it's unclear whether it's been formed from people trying to enter or exit the pictures or from something else entirely.

Link and I freeze in our steps momentarily, even my inner warning wings pause in anticipation, and other passerby turn their heads in acknowledgement of the sounds. Apart from that small action, no other reaction is given from the other people around us. They keep their eyes away, trying to focus on something else as if nothing unusual is unfolding. They know as well as we do, that there's some semblance of safety in inattention. Link mutters to me, "Keep your pace." The theater sits at the end of the block on the corner, and there's an alley that stretches between the theater and its neighboring shops, but to go down that way means we have to approach whatever situation is unfolding at the theater entrance. We also run the risk of winding up at a dead end.

We can't just turn around though.

We can, however, jaywalk to the other side of the street.

Link reminds me to keep my head up. Don't slink, don't look nervous. Walk like you've got somewhere to be, and you needed to be there minutes ago. Purposeful. Don't even bother looking at other people, because you've got a destination and you know exactly where you're going. Shoulders back. Be strong.

Link is right.

If living in a big city like Castleton has taught me anything, it's that what Link is reminding me of is true. The folks that didn't get fucked with were the people that acted with purpose and looked stone cold angry doing it.

It's hard to choke down fear when it's sitting in your throat and you know the threat is near. This is not a maybe situation. This is not a time or place where we _might_ get our wallet stolen. This is a time where Link and I wandering around, near defenseless, in the lion's den.

It's also hard to keep my eyes forward when I can see through the cracks in the crowd when we pause to let a car pass before crossing the street.

Some men lie on the ground, clutching abdomens or heads in pain. A Hylian woman with platinum hair struggles to free herself from a Guardsman's hands. Her weathered clothing has seen better days, with holes dotting her threadbare skirt. Alongside the military policemen is a squad officer brandishing a purple Lens.

My breath hitches. My grip on Link's arm tightens, though he does not notice.

"Link-"

"Don't look, love."

But of course, I do. The officer pockets the Lens, and he shakes his head. To the Guard, he says, "Not her; her core is far too small."

I feel a heat rising deep within me. It wells in my chest and creeps out to my fingers and even to my ears. What I wouldn't give for human ears right now…

Eldin's voice rings in my head. The hawk spirit gently reminds me to keep myself in check. "Fire is the most uncontrollable," it had said when I asked for help after setting the newspaper on fire. "This is just one other gift of the gold magic." The gold magic's presence seems to have been strengthening on its own accord since wrangling it.

As a child, I can recall certain incidents occurring with no explanation. Magic was an uncontrollable force for me when I was young. The golden magic building in my core dregs up memories of my father chastising me for not suppressing my magic and the harsh reprimands from teachers when I scared my classmates as it slips from my control. I breathe in deep, and I try to keep calm, not pay attention to the scene across the street. I've lost control of the gold magic only a few times so far, but that's a few times too many, so I try to focus on my breathing. Each breath in. Out. In. Out.

I take a quick glance at my core. I can feel that the bubbling rage of the gold magic is settling, but it's still simmering within my core. Protecting my core in an outer layer are the golden green vines, and when I feel my magic trying to run rampant in a split second of inattention, the vines constrict to keep it at bay. There's a tightening in my chest until they loosen their hold.

There's a flutter of leather to keep me alert.

Breathe. Stay calm, and they won't notice. Breathe.

"Nothing else?"

"No. She doesn't have anything on her."

"Let her go."

From the glossy windows of the shops, I can see the Guardsmen toss aside the woman. She tumbles onto the concrete when she's unable to keep her footing. The uniformed men simply storm around her and down the block. When I look back, a few of the movie goers only move towards her when the men are a safe distance away to help her up and check on her.

I sigh, releasing that internal breath I've been holding for so long. "That was close," I gasp.

"Let's not think about it and just get out of town," says Link.

The wings won't cease though.

Each step is a rattling of nerves that Link tries to soothe with soft words, but I can't even begin to think about calming down until our feet touch the dirt road of Route 59. We don't speak. We don't look at each other. No longer clinging onto Link's arm, I walk in the grass with a couple feet of space between us. We're maybe a mile or so out from the edge of Kakariko when we see the first car heading out. My instinctive reaction is to flinch and look for a way to hide. However, Link thumbs for a lift, but the car ignores us and bounces down past us, and I relax a little.

Link shrugs. "There'll be more."

"Do you think they were looking for us?" I ask. Link turns his head towards me, fake eyes rolling to me, and I know he knows I don't mean the passing car.

He doesn't reply.

An apple orchard isn't too far off down the road, so Link makes the suggestion of stopping there to let me rest for a bit. The rows of apple trees are enclosed within a simple, wooden fence. It's not hard to climb over it, for Link that is. In my case, I slip through the two horizontal bars of wood that run between posts. Link sets the accordion and the duffel down on the grass while I lean up against the tree. He asks, trying to put some humor into our present, "Think we'll get anybody to run us off?" It's just absurd enough, I laugh.

Link takes the green tweed cap, Mido's, from his head and plops it onto mine. "You hungry at all?" Not waiting for me to reply, he starts climbing up one tree, careful to watch himself, though it's hard for him to see what his limbs are doing. I have to direct him some until his hands get hold of one of the lower, thick branches, and he hauls himself up onto the branch. He picks a good number of the last apples for the season and tosses them down to me. I squirrel away the apples in the duffel to keep for later, my eyes scanning through the thick trunks of the apple trees for any sign of people. With some luck, no one comes out.

And just like that, the pleasant, mundane feeling of being on the road hits us again. This is different from the feeling of being lost in the woods, different from the escape from the carnival. All we have to worry about is figuring out where we're going, what we're going to eat and hoping that maybe some soul kind enough to pick us up can take us further along. Maybe whenever we end up wherever we'll give Darunia and Marin a ring to check in. I consider calling Ruto again as well, though I think it comes from a selfish place in me where hearing her blather on about her perfect, bubble world can make me forget the real one that we're living in.

We chat about a popular radio show that airs on Mondays at seven, speculating what it is that they use to get their sound effects. We've missed too many shows to really keep up with the storyline these days. The last one Link and I were able to catch aired a couple weeks back with the pirate ship caught in storm out in the Waker Sea during their continued search for a fabled ghost ship containing treasure. Link insists that the sound of thunder is created by waving thin sheets of metal.

The more we talk, distance ourselves mentally from Kakariko, the wider Link smiles. He hops back across the fence and backpedals to look up at the sky over the orchard's tree line. The laughter in synthetic voice suddenly doesn't sound so. It's fuller, and it's colored. Just before he throws his head back, I can see it. There's spark in his eyes that I've not seen before. Throat exposed, he turns slightly, following the trail of a plane through the sky. His head of blond hangs back, and under the sunshine, there's a healthy, silky sheen to it. It doesn't look so raw and coarse anymore.

The laughter is still in his eyes and smile when he turns back to me. The warmth from him fills me far better than a sweater and coat ever could.

And in a split second I lose all that.

His skin is splattered with glossy scarlet, glistening in the sunlight, and that wonderful smile of his is still under that layer of gore.

It almost makes me want to retch, but I hold it in.

The smile starts to falter. Link's eyes click as he approaches the fence. He leans over the post and asks, "What's wrong?"

To keep the swimming in my head and stomach at bay, I keep my eyes on my boots and pray that helps quell the rippling sea in my abdomen.

The crunching of rocks and dirt reaches my ears. An engine purrs, and I glance up. Link, whose face is now thankfully clean again, backs away from the fence, and I believe that he might try to signal the car coming up the road. He doesn't though. Instead, Link tenses, and there's a sudden flurry of black leather flapping in my chest. "Zelda!" Link calls in warning as I scramble to my feet, but both of us are too late. The car is in view now pulling alongside where Link stands in the grass.

A glossy black sedan with chrome trim slows down.

I'm rooted to my spot as the back window rolls down. The face that appears is not one that I immediately recognize, but when the man opens his mouth, I know exactly who he is. I've heard him speak enough times by this point. He looks so different in real life color than what I can recall from black and white pictographs in the newspapers. His lips stretch wide to reveal perfectly white teeth, and he asks Link, "Why, hello there. How are you today?"

Stiff, Link says, "Fine." His eye flick my way for guidance, but I can offer none.

His hair is an amazing shade of platinum blonde, so bright you could almost mistake it as white. His skin does not have much color to it either; it's so pale, but has just enough color to it that it's a few shade darker than his hair. It's no wonder that he constantly looks slightly washed out in his pictographs. There's a cigar in one hand, and he sticks it out the window to ash it.

"Were you looking for a ride?" the president asks as he breifly eyes me with the duffel strap in one hand.

Link says, "No. Just resting a bit."

President Ghirahim looks back to me, and the look in his eyes tangles up my breath, leaving it trapped in my throat on its exhale. Not even the wings dare to flutter inside of me. He leaves me choked until he turns his head back into the car. The president speaks softly with the other occupants of the car, and then the doors break open wide. He's dressed lightly for the weather, only a suit jacket to keep him warm. Two men step out of the vehicle with him dressed in uniforms of the Guard.

Casually, the president brushes his fingers over his jacket to flick off some unseen lint as he approaches us. "Tell me, strangers," he says coolly as he stops short of the grass where Link stands, "what are your names?"

"Ravio," lies Link. He glances at me, and it's enough for me to get the message.

I play along. "Hilda."

"How lovely," the president quips, taking a few puffs on the cigar.

His eyes slide between the two Guardsmen standing alert on both sides of him. His unoccupied hand slips deep under his jacket's lapels, and the president pulls out a revolver. His movements are fluid as he cocks the weapon's hammer, and in short succession, both of the Guardsmen crumple to the ground. My ears are ringing from the revolver's blasts as I watch pools of claret steadily seep out onto the dirt road the men's heads. It's hard to avert my eyes from the gory halos. Flecks of the claret have splattered the road and likely on the president's dark suit for it dots his exposed, pale skin. Goopy bits litter the halos, giving the smooth, dark liquid a lumpy appearance. The hand that holds the pistol falls to the president's side, still smoking.

He puffs on his cigar again.

"How about we agree not to lie to each other, Ravio?" The smiles that creeps onto his face as he looks at Link is sickening. To me: "Hilda?"

We're too stunned to reply.

The president tosses aside the loaded revolver, and I jump when it fires off into the orchard.

"Well? What say you?"

"Mr. President," Link gives a nervous laugh, "we're just trying to find work in a new town."

The president snarls when he hears this. "Ravio, if you are a good man, you won't speak such utter nonsense."

"Is it though?" Link pushes, finding himself, and I'm a little awed at his audacity. "There are shanty towns full of folks that can't find a decent living these days! People will line up for blocks for food, and then people like us can't stay in one place, because there is nothing for anybody no matter where we go. And what have you been doing? You've been on some strange crusade against magic that most folks don't even have the capabilities to use anymore. What's the godsdamn point of it all?"

"Like yourself?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, sir," the president laughs. He tosses his long bangs to the side with one flick of his head. "What _is _the point of it all? Aren't you constantly putting a strain on your core to keep yourself intact to that mechanical abomination of a body? Not that I'm sure that you could even use your magic if you had any decent amount to spare. You're a strange one, to say the least. My men thought you had some strange medical ailment of the skin, but now I see that you're nothing more than a husk.

"I didn't fully believe it all at first," he giggles to himself, "until I saw you from the car. Oh, I just _knew_ today was going to be a good day."

He waves the cigar at me. "You should know, Ravio, that I don't need manmade weapons to harm that girl, so care to reconsider my original proposition?"

"Your magic is nothing compared to hers." I wish I had Link's confidence in my abilities. "You're no threat."

"Ravio," the president chides as if he were prodding a lying child for the truth.

"We are two drifters just trying to find some place better in this world." Link even has the gall to say to the president, "And I mean that being a place where you don't exist."

President Ghirahim's advance is too fast for me or Link. In one moment he's still standing on the dirt road, and in the next, he's on me with a hand deep in my chest. I lose all of my strength. The duffel strap slips from my fingers. My lungs can't hold a breath, and the way he digs into me is _crushing_. "Threats to my cause shouldn't exist either," he growls, and his fingers reach my core where the vines have become overgrown in the face of the threat.

Then there's a nothingness.

The president's lips move, but his voice is gone. Over his shoulder and beyond the orchard fence is Link twisting to run at us with a slackened jaw. Under the president's malicious eyes, I have to believe that maybe this _is_ it for me. Link is at the fence, and the president's fingers close around my core. The pressure begins to build as his starts to squeeze.

I can hear Eldin whispering in my ear to remind me to breathe, to keep the fire inside me going steady.

Link's battle cry rakes through my ears mixed with the president's own anguished, wailing screams. The protective vines latch into the president's palm with razor thorns, and he releases me. Air swoops into my lungs like a tidal wave as I stumble back, tripping over the duffel bag and tree roots. Pain blooms in my head from the impact, and my vision begins to swim as I try to get my bearings.

Before Ghirahim can come at me again, Link slams into him, throwing both of them into the dirt. The president repeatedly strikes Link, but the machine can feel nothing and takes the hits, and Ghirahim can't get himself loose. Stubbornly, he clings to President Ghirahim. Still a little dazed, I get myself up on all fours. The strange way that time moves is punctuated by the steady beating of the wings as I find my feet and rush at the two, Link screaming for me – Hilda – and the burning is back.

Breathe.

"Think of yourself, your body, as the bellows that breathe life to fire," Eldin had said.

Breathe.

Ghirahim manages to pull a switchblade from a pocket and, knowing it won't do anything in stopping a mechanical man, flings it at me. It sinks into my abdomen, a few inches right from navel. When I hit the ground again, rocking in new waves of pain, Ghirahim gets himself free of Link. Shiny leather shoes approach as I roll to keep the blade away from the ground.

Breathe.

Eldin rings through. "Controlled chaos."

The hot, sticky liquid is all over my palms, and I throw one hand out and latch onto the president's ankle and let loose. The flames lick his expensive shoes and ignite the fine, woolen trousers. He howls but manages to kick me once in the head. Link's blurred figure throws him away from me, and I'm vaguely aware of the strange sensation of the slick metal sliding out from my stomach.

The putrid stench of burned flesh meets my nostrils, mixing with the copper odor of my blood. My hands grapple at the wound, trying to stifle the gushing flow.

With the small blade, Link manages to dig a deep gash into Ghirahim's gut.

Shouts come from within the orchard, and the president takes Link's momentary distraction and wretches the switchblade knife from Link. A man in dirtied overalls with a rifle in hand comes out from between the trees. His cursing stops when he sets his eyes on us. Clumsy fingers fumble to set the rifle to fire, and he takes aim at Link, the only uninjured, standing one. Link and I try to shout for him to hurry away, but the blast from the rifle rips through our speech.

The president starts to cackle.

My vision starts to get hazy.

The bullet rockets through Link, and the force knocks the gauzy blot that is Link off his feet.

From the blood pooling from his stomach, the president forms razor sharp diamonds. The garnet diamonds sail straight for the man and sink deep into him. The man keels over, scarlet droplets arching through the air.

President Ghirahim slowly drags himself to his feet, burned flesh and gaping wound and all. Numb and fading, I still manage work up enough spittle to shoot at his feet as Link rises again. With each blink of my eyes, though, his shoes come closer with Link right behind. Just when Ghirahim is almost on me, I feel a sudden surge course through me.

The vines wrapped around my core weave together a little tighter.

The blood from the wound in my abdomen seeps through the cracks of my fingers, and my last attack barely registers in my mind. With one hand on the wound, the other raises up seizes President Ghirahim's outstretched, and the energy welled inside of me releases in an electrifying current. His muscles spasm. Through the cloudy haze of consciousness, I see the president fold like paper to the ground. He jerks a bit more before going still.

Then Link's hands are on my face, his eyes more watery than glassy.

He calls for me – Zelda – but I slip away.

**…**

She's beautiful. Just as young and vibrant as I can recall. With each step towards her, I feel the blooming of life under my feet. It springs skyward, green tendrils creeping up from between my toes and out from under my heels. And she! And she sits under an old willow, her head downcast. I can't see her for the willow's wild hair obscures her, but I know. I know. She's beautiful. Just as strong and tender as I can recall.

She and I have never met, but I know her. And I'm sure, in some strange way, she knows me. Why else has she come to me? There's a stirring in my heart, and it tells me that she's been waiting. For how long, I know not, but I know that she's been waiting for me for far too long. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. So, so sorry that I've kept her waiting.

So my feet, my aching feet, carry me to her. Each weary step towards her becomes more confident. Her energy wraps me up in a silk cloth that caresses my skin and eases the dull pain I feel the closer I come, and from this I know that she forgives me. She forgives me for all the time I have so foolishly wasted. I was not ready yet, but I am now.

The weeping willow ruffles its natural hair.

I slip through the willow's curtain.

She sits with her legs curved to one side. Her white skirts pool from the lavender bodice. Even in the shade, her hair shines, and when her eyes lift to meet mine, they're electrifying. Her skin is neither sun kissed nor the porcelain white that so many of her nobles desired. She has a healthy glow to her, and it's warm and inviting. Her lips quirk, and her eyes drift back down to her hands. The scarf she'd fashioned from a soiled dress is in her hands. Delicate fingers trace the embroidery.

While I feel so small in comparison when I sit down next to her, I can't help the swelling in my chest. The ease of which she is able to saturate me in her glow is amazing. This graceful woman… she is heavenly. It makes me feel so honored to be so close to her, to be touched by her blessed, heavenly energy. I have to ask, "Am I dead?" because such contentment does not exist in my reality.

"Of course not, love. I will not let you go so soon."

"Is this even real?"

"Is anything?" she replies. Her voice is light, quiet and smooth. It's sweet and thick, drawing out her words like taffy. Her eyes lift to meet mine once more, and she roots me to the earth.

"I can see why he loves you so."

She giggles at this.

I have to look away.

I don't think I've seen grass this green in a long time.

"He loves _us_ so," she corrects me.

"I'm sorry?"

Zelda the Queen leans towards me and places one hand on my arm. Her skin warm, but I feel the callouses on her palm from her labors. I can only imagine the hidden sneers and distaste she must have suffered from them.

Rosy lips stretch, and she tells me, "You and I are not so different, don't you think?"

I shake my head in disagreement, and she frowns a little.

"We must be, otherwise you would have never been chosen like the rest of us."

"… Us?"

This makes her laugh again, but it's not condescending in the least. "We are all chosen to carry this magic within our veins, because we are born with certain qualities." Her hand pulls away. "You may not think yourself brave or witty, but I do.

"There will come a time very soon, when you will need this. Link will help you; he's given you pieces of himself as it is. I promise, he won't leave you when you need him most."

Pieces? Of himself?

Zelda the Queen glances my way as I stupidly try to form a response.

Saving me, she adds, "The memories."

"Have you been helping us this whole time?"

The queen offers a tiny smile and turns her attention back to the purple scarf in her hands, but she does not answer me. A glassiness overtakes her eyes, and a small clear bead wells up from one corner.

"He is a man full of doubts, my love," she mutters to me, although I barely catch her silky words as they slip past her lips. She doesn't bother to hide or wipe the tear that slides down the curve of her cheek. "You and I are our own people, as much as he wants us to be one in the same. I have long since passed; my time is done. Just like all the others before me.

"I had a purpose, dear," she says, a little bit of an edge biting at her words now. "I did not fulfill it, though I was given the tools to, and look where it landed Link." The steely stare she strikes me with shatters my serenity and leaves me stunned. "Malladus had his designs working in the woods. Gohma crawled up from the darkest of pits. Bulbins repeatedly tried to raid new territory. Even the skull kids were riled and took anyone in the woods to be an intruder. I was not able to stop him as I should have."

The willow rustles as if lamenting the queen's failure with her.

"He's still out there," I say to her. To me, my voice is withering and weak when compared to hers.

"I know."

The scarf falls limply onto her lap, and Zelda the Queen takes my hands in hers. "His plans are even more twisted now that he has another ally in tow. Our magic must not fall into their hands, do you understand, my dear?"

I'm shaking a little. "Yes," I almost croak back.

She looks down at the scarf again, letting go of my hands. Her thumb drags across the fabric as she considers it. I give a small squeak in surprise and protest when Zelda reaches over and pulls on the collar of my dress. She slips the scarf down the front of my dress. "Keep it," she says as she rests her hand on my chest, the piece of fabric bunched up underneath, "for when he needs reminding of who we are." I'm unclear if she means the three of us, or just her and me.

I don't get the chance to ask her to clarify, as she tells me, "It's time for us to part, Zelda." The queen takes my hands again. "You need to wake up now, love, but I want you to remember that I am always with you, we all are. So never fear and never doubt, for we believe that you are strong.

"Most of all, Zelda," she whispers, "I want you to remember, especially if you find yourself in trouble, that I love you."

"You all do?"

Her smile is almost blinding.

Her honey sweet voice is full of determined conviction when she replies, "We all do."

And Zelda the Queen lets me go.

* * *

><p>I seem to have this trend of updating on Tuesdays.<p>

Next chapter is essentially halfway done actually, but I'm not sure when I'll be able to grab the time to finish, because look out lower income families of Chicago! I am out there, filing your taxes this year. Seriously. I have a few more things to do with my IRS examinations this week, and in March, I will be working with VITA (Voluntary Income Tax Assistance) to help all the other poor folk like me out there file their 1040's. VITA's not just an Illinois thing, guys, if you need help, check in around places like your local library to see if there's tax assistance available.

This is my supra busy season now, guys, but I do read everything you leave me. I'm sorry if I haven't replied, I try to, but thanks for all the comments and PMs you guys have sent me. Your suggestions, critiques and comments are always welcomed and awesome.

We're coming near the end, so I've had more of a drive to write this story over _Zombie_ _Cake. _As much as I've like writing this story so far, I will be happy to have it done and be able to move onto other projects. Like the next the Zelda story.

If you guys play Animal Crossing: New Leaf at all, feel free to visit anytime through the Dream Suite. My dream address is: **4200-3405-3793**.

Stay warm guys, drop a word or a hello and I'll catch you on the next update!

:O


	18. I've Put Myself on Ice

Coin-Operated

18.0

I've Put Myself on Ice

Link glances over at the president, unsure if the bastard is dead or alive. He can't feel for a pulse, the other three men are dead, and Zelda is losing blood fast. Even without all that, the choice for him is a simple one. Save Zelda. At all costs.

The car still sits on the road, engine running. Exhaust puffs up in clouds from the tailpipe as the engine putters. There's one saving grace today that he will thank Farore for.

When Link glances back at the president, he's startled to see that wound he'd inflicted is starting to knit itself back together. The burned flesh on his leg is bubbling and starting to settle back into smooth skin. Such a man could have healing magic?

His eyes dart back to the car purring on the roadside. They just need to go, get out of there, get some distance before the president can fully heal himself. Zelda does not have a chance if they remain here.

Link throws the duffel over his shoulder and scoops Zelda up, and with one hand, he awkwardly tries to keep pressure on the puncture wound. He moves to head to the car, but his eyes dart back to the accordion sitting under the apple tree. Zelda's long hair falls in waves as Link struggles to keep hold of her, the wound and reach for the accordion case. He steels himself a moment, waiting to see if anything will fall, and when nothing does, he hurries back to fence. He drops the case, wincing a little internally at the damage he might have caused it, and struggles again to keep balance and hold of petite Zelda while trying to get over the fence.

He seats her pale form in the passenger seat, throwing their duffel into the backseat of the car and bolts back to the fence for the accordion. He wastes no time in making sure that the instrument is safe in the back, and simply tosses it in like the duffel. The mechanical man clambers into the vehicle and seats himself behind the wheel, eyes scanning for the pedals. Throwing the car into gear, Link speeds them as fast as he can down the dirt road, one hand reaching over to put pressure on Zelda's wound and trying to focus on getting them away from the president and Kakariko as fast as possible.

Farore, keep her alive this time.

The whole thing is just surreal.

Of all the people…

He tries not to think about it all too much. Has to think of Zelda. Of the road.

But Farore what will he do if she dies she can't die he has to make sure of that but where are they going to go what can he do what can he do she can't die she can't die he can't do this again not again not again-

Then he feels something.

_Feels_ something.

At first he's not totally aware of it, still simultaneously stupefied and panicked by the whole situation, yet the feeling persists. It's a prickling in his hand, the one that's over Zelda's knife wound. Surely he must be imagining this. This whole thing.

Is he actually off? Is this some sort of divine joke of a dream? Can he even call it dreaming?

All of this! All of this is so new. So strange. Odd.

The road stretches and stretches, but Link isn't really paying much attention. His whole mind has gone blank.

The prickling feeling is still there.

Finally, thinking the distance is far enough, and he can't ignore the thousand needles sinking into his artificial hand, he turns to the very pale Zelda. The blood he'd accidentally smeared on her face earlier is a stark contrast to her white complexion. His hand still on the wound, Link places his other over her breast and begins trying to feel for her core. With his mind whirling like a tornado, it's hard for Link to focus, because what if it's too late what if she dies what is he going to do without her and he just can't go through that again not again not again he can't-

The feeble pulse of her core meets his desperate calling. He's a little shocked when he sees the massive changes her core has undergone in just a short span of time. It's all in the name of defense, he's sure. His magic has wrapped itself so tightly around her core, thorns at the ready, but when it recognizes him, his old magic begins to retreat.

Something touches his palm.

Link pulls away, presses himself up flush against the door of the vehicle. Blood smears across the seat from his hand.

At the wound's exit, the blood begins to bubble a little. Hesitant, Link leans back towards Zelda. Her blood is hot and sticky, and he jerks his hand away. His fingers peel away from each other, the ruby substance clinging to his silicone skin. The strange tackiness tickles him, and the blood is so smooth, just so smooth…

Link has to pull his eyes away from his hand.

Zelda's wound still bubbles. Link takes a corner of her ruined shirt and dabs a little at the wound. No new blood comes out.

He looks inside once more. _Her_ magic, not his own, is the root cause for this. Her magic has healing properties and is steadily making headway on stitching her flesh back together. His magic protected her, but Link can see the soft waves of blue flowing out to heal herself. She'd always been good at healing magic, but that doesn't make his relief any less sweet. It would simply take her awhile. He encourages his old magic to help in the healing process, and the vines, reluctant to leave her core unguarded, take a bit of begging before relenting. Although his old magic stays on the alert, still wary of threats.

So Link turns to his hand with Zelda squared away. He turns it over, palm down, then turns it back, palm up. Index fingers and thumbs rub against one another, but he doesn't feel anything.

Not now.

Link sits, back pressed up against the little corner formed by the seat and door. There's clearly blood on his hand, and he felt it, he's sure, but now he can't?

It doesn't make sense.

_Nothing_ is making sense.

It is driving him mad.

Zelda, for all her patience – thank Nayru – doesn't pry too much. It probably just makes it easier on her to not bother with it; that is, that's what Link prefers to believe. For him though, Link thinks that he must be on the verge of losing his mind, which hits him hard considering he doesn't have much left to lose. If he loses his mind, he can pretty much call it quits now.

But Link is sure, he's so sure, that he felt something. For one moment, he had nerves in his fingers, picking up that smooth sensation of Zelda's blood, the prickling as her flesh started to knit back together.

No, he can't be losing his mind. It's practically all he's got now.

Just to be sure though, Link reaches over and touches Zelda's wound.

His fingers feel sticky.

**…**

When he wakes the next morning, he's a little afraid to move. She rests on his back, still sleeping soundly, so he just lies there and closes his eyes again. Her chest pushes against him with each breath of air, and the long strands of blonde tickle his skin. Soon enough, the need to use the pot overrides anything else, so Link reluctantly pulls away, trying his best not to disturb her. She snuggles into the warm spot on the bed that he leaves behind. When he sits up, the bare skin on his back prickles at the sudden chill now that the queen's hot skin does not cover it, and his vision slowly swirls. He groans a little and bends down to cover his eyes with one hand.

He grumbles a little to himself as he heads over to the pot. Waking up still a little intoxicated is not how he wants to start his morning. Once he's relieved himself, he uses her basin to wash his face, hoping to help clear the haziness up somewhat.

Link goes and takes the wine bottle still sitting on the table where the queen had supped the night before and checks the cork. He stashes the bottle in her armoire. The mead bottles weren't large, and he can easily slip them back in the kitchens before returning to his room. He picks up one of the two left on the table and gives it a shake. While there's not much, there's a fair amount still in the bottle, and he briefly entertains finishing it. With the way the world lags behind each of his movements, however, he thinks better of it.

His vision swims when he turns his head a little too fast to look across the room where her bed is. Pillows have fallen onto the floor, and the blankets hang off the side of the bed, leaving the queen with only a sheet partially draped over her. Thankfully, each step towards the bed he takes feels a little more solid than the last. Link bends over and starts ripping through the mess of bed covers to find his trousers. He finds his shirt first when the queen starts to stir. "What're you doing?" she mumbles as he fumbles with the stupid piece of clothing. Which sleeve is which again? "Get back in bed. It's too early."

He complains about his missing clothing. She hears him tell her to get out of bed.

"Don't order me when you can't even be decent," snaps the queen.

Picking up the covers on the floor, Link flings them over the queen. Another pillow is thrown from the bed, but it misses him when he flies back to dodge, and Link doesn't retrieve it. Instead he slaps her with one of its other fallen brethren and tries to quell the swimming sensation in his head from the sudden movements.

He finds that his trousers have crawled under the bed somewhat. Link retrieves them and throws them on. He says to the queen as he kicks around for his tunic, "You should probably get up."

The queen gives a muffled groan.

"Zelda." He cocks his head to one side, eyebrows needling. "Are you going to be sick?"

There's another muffled slur of words that he thinks is supposed to indicate that she's fine.

He leans over the bed and shakes her shoulder some. "Come on, Zelda. Let's sneak down to the kitchens for some food. You'll feel better."

"Cancel everything today."

Link chuckles to himself and runs a hand across the back of his neck. "Come now. Get dressed. Let's eat." When the queen still refuses to go, the knight just takes it upon himself to sneak some food from the kitchen after slipping his green tunic back on. After lighting a candle, he plucks up the two empty mead bottles and slips into the passageway, leaving the trapdoor open. He's slowly learning his way around the hidden passages in the castle, but he's walked the path from her room to the kitchens so many times now, that it's ingrained in him. The small amount of illumination offered from the candle seems a little silly to him, for he could probably find his way there and back in the pitch black of the passage.

When Link reaches the end of the passage, he sets the candle on the ground a ways down from the exit, though in his slightly drunken state, it is none too gentle, and he almost loses the candle and its small flame. The passageway's door cracks open just a smidge, and Link peers out from the small opening. The kitchen cellar appears to be empty, so he opens up the door enough to slip through. He plops the two bottles on a shelf where he'd retrieved them the night before for some poor sap to find empty of any mead and creeps up to the main area of the kitchens.

The cooks are hard pressed to have breakfast prepared. Servants whisk around trying to prep the dishes to go out to the hungry nobles gathering in the dining hall on one side of the kitchens. Plates and cups clatter as they set them out for food to be dished out on, though Link cannot quite see through the racks that separates the prep area from the storage what exactly is being served that morning, but he can smell and taste the spicy scent of sausage in the air. It makes his belly, still sloshing with alcohol and no solids, churn. The noise isn't helping either, as each clang and scrape of metal from the cooks and servants makes his head rock.

A smile stretches on Link's lips though when he spies one girl scrubbing pots by herself not far away on the storage side of the kitchens. Pressed up against the wall of spices by the cellar entrance, he waits for her to look up from her task. A lock of platinum blonde hair slips from her cap, and she blows a jet of air to push it out of her face. The girl notices him hiding in the shadows when she goes to rinse the pot. She frowns at his disheveled appearance of scraggly hair with cowlicks that just won't go down, no shoes or belt and wrinkled clothing. Link gives her a hopeful smile, and her head flies around as she looks to see if anyone else is near.

Seeing that no one is watching, the girl holds up a finger to tell him to wait. Link mouths, "Thank you," to her as she dries her hands on her apron, and he slips back down the stairwell to the cellar to wait. The petite girl quickly integrates herself among the servants preparing dishes to go out, and she loads a couple plates up. When the cooks aren't looking, she grabs a few extra rolls and throws them on top of the plates and scurries away. She flies over to the stairs and shoves the plates into Link's arms. "I owe you, Ciela," Link gushes when he sees the amount of food.

"Get lost before the cooks have my head," she snaps with a smirk, giving Link a small snicker. "Sup later?"

"Definitely," Link promises her.

Without another word, but a smile on her face, Ciela whips right around to go back to her scrubbing, and Link disappears down to the cellar. He stops briefly to consider maybe curbing his coming headache with another bottle of mead. The booming of a pot smacking the floor jars him enough that he decides against it. He juggles a plate on his forearm and sneaks back into the passage.

Zelda hasn't moved at all since he left, and he laughs to himself as he kicks the trap shut and the carpet back over it. His wrist aches with awkward balancing of the two plates and candle, and he sighs some with relief when he finally sets it all down on the table. With one glance at the queen, however, he's sure she's not all that likely to be moved from her current position. After shaking out his wrist, he grabs both plates once more and brings them both to her bed.

Queen Zelda grimaces when he sets the plates down on her sheets. He hands her a glass of water poured from the carafe on her bedside table as she grumbles at him. "You are _not-_" Her mouth slackens a little when he rips into a bread roll and little crumbs falls onto her bed.

He taps the glass, and she grudgingly drinks.

They eat slowly, and it takes some time before the sickening feeling of having food in his stomach settles down. Farore, he had needed to eat. The food settling in his belly helps quell his sickness, but the slimy feeling of something off does not leave him.

Like any good servant of the queen, Link seeks the Sheikah Impa out and relays the queen's request to be left undisturbed for the day. His elder flashes him a cross look, red eyes narrowing, and all he can do is offer her a sheepish smile. Thin lips turn in to an almost nonexistent line. The Sheikah guardian does not approve, and she mutters to herself as she turns on her heel about youth and their drink.

He checks up on his beloved queen one more time to find her trying to sleep off the hangover before returning to his rooms through the passageways.

The knight strips himself of his clothing and hastily washes himself. Fresh clothing is pulled from his trunk, and he can still smell the lingering scent of the gardens where his tunic was hung to dry. Link lays the soiled clothing out for the servants to take to wash and unlocks his door. A plate of food is waiting at the foot of his door, and he stoops to pick it up. He does not often dine with the other courtiers in the dining hall these days, and the servants have taken to leaving him his meals at his door.

He tries to go about his day, but he can't help but sense something amiss as he walks through the castle halls. The knight in green is barely even fazed when he runs into his older brother. Sir Raven gives him a gruff greeting, yet Link is not ruffled by the growing rift between them.

It is only when his squire Colin plows into him does Link realize what has been amiss in the castle. Link helps steady the lad, and he has to ask the squire to repeat himself twice in order to understand the babble that comes out of the boy's mouth. What Colin says is so strange… so utterly bizarre, that Link has a hard time wrapping his still muddled head around the situation.

The young squire leads his knight master to a closed study. The guardsmen posted outside the doors are visibly shaken and pale. Sweat rolls down their milky white skin as they pull the halberds aside to allow the squire and knight through the door, though the pair doesn't make an immediate move. Link takes in the harried expression on the two guards, but he doesn't question it.

Feeling more sobered than he has all day, Link strides into the study. Hair matted to his forehead with perspiration, the man in the center of the room is tied down with rope to a chair to keep him from thrashing about. Link recognizes him as another cartographer, Ike, that he had met briefly down in Ordona Province. Colin shuts the door behind him and stands next to his master. "He was brought in less than an hour ago," the boy says, gesturing at the man. "Her Majesty isn't receiving anyone today," which is completely Link's fault, "so I suggested that you might be able to do something." The boy fiddles with his hands and bows his head.

Link approaches the man and tentatively reaches out to him. Ike lets out a guttural sound when Link's palm flattens against his chest. His muscles constrict, and he tenses under Link's touch. The knight feeds into the man to see into his core, and Link nearly recoils in horror at the sight before him. The man coughs, blood splattering and dribbling on his chin.

Shaking off his frozen nerves, Link very calmly and forcibly tells his squire, "Go get the queen."

"But milor-"

"BREAK DOWN HER DOOR!" Link roars. The inner panic in his chest starts to swell up the longer he looks into the man. "JUST GO."

Colin skitters out from the room.

Link's heart starts to race. Each rushing pump of blood in his veins is another wasted moment. What can he do though? From what Link can remember, the cartographer was capable of magic, but nothing to this extent. Ike's magical core was not very large, but Link knows what he's seeing is real. The man's core has swelled significantly.

There must have been some sort of surge that ran through him, and Ike's small core could not withstand the strain. It is cracked in several places. His magic is starting to run rampant, spilling out and leaking from the webbing of cracks. Link breathes in deep, trying to calm himself from the frantic pulsing in his ears and begins trying to plug the rogue magic from further escaping, but the core is far too damaged for Link to do much. The knight is too inexperienced and his magic too immature to do much for the distressed cartographer.

Link barely has the man holding on when the queen bursts into the room with the meek squire at her heels. The guards outside the door only stare dumbly at the queen clad only in her shift. She brushes back her hair and bends down before the man. "What happened?" she demands as Colin shuts the door on the scene.

"I don't know, but his magic is going everywhere. I can't keep it contained. There might have been a surge."

Link stands aside for the queen, and she slams her hands onto the cartographer's chest. Her eyes widen, and a strangled gasp is let out when she sees the poor state of his core. The queen screws her eyes shut and tries to focus.

The minutes drag on as Ike pulls at his restraints, and the queen mutters in soft tones to herself. Finally, his movements cease, and Link and his squire stiffen in anticipation. The queen, however, drops her head and hands. Colin's eyes dart between his lord and his queen. Her Majesty does not rise, and his master grunts to himself and shuts his eyes. When Colin settles his sight on the cartographer Ike, the reality settles in on him.

The Queen of Hyrule raises her head. "It was definitely a surge." Her mellow voice usually laced with honey, carries a lead weight instead.

Colin asks for an explanation.

Link sighs and rubs one eye. "Somebody fed so much magic into him, his core couldn't contain it."

"Cores are actually delicate things. They need to be protected and cared for," the queen further explains. The knight master habitually rubs the back of his neck. "His was far too gone for us to save. It burst under all the pressure."

Colin had seen men die before. Death was not some foreign entity to any one of the three. They'd all seen it before. The knight and his queen, however, have watched men beheaded, hung, maimed… violent deaths, some they were directly responsible for. The boy has only seen old age and sickness claim lives. Those things are so far out of man's control. Maybe if Colin had run for his master sooner, to the queen quicker… Seeing the guilty look pass over Colin's face, Link rests a hand on the squire's shoulder.

"Why?" the boy chokes.

The queen rises and closes the cartographer's eyes. "Why, indeed. Something foul is out there, hunting." Her lips purse.

The long moments of silence stretch thin. Link's hand slips from the squire. He turns on his heel, one hand cradling his head, and he grunts, "I need a drink."

**…**

Good goddesses! Farore, what is going _on_ with him? Link buries his face in his hands in a feeble attempt to block out the world. Far too much as of late has he been living in the past. What is wrong with him? Every time he closes his eyes and shuts down, there it is, some memory unfolding right before him of things he hasn't thought about in so, so long. Why now? He pulls his hands away and looks around the box car.

Zelda is still curled next to him in a blanket with her head resting on his lap in lieu of a pillow. He checks behind him, and the duffel doesn't seem to have been disturbed by anyone. The accordion sits next to him with Zelda resting up against it. He'll have to double check to make sure their meager belongings are all there, but nothing feels off, however.

His eyes click around.

A hand goes to the coin slot on his chest as his eyes dart down. The slot is still there, right under his hand.

Did he just turn on? _By himself_?

Zelda couldn't have done it. The blonde is clearly still unconscious on his lap.

Link pulls away her coat, which he'd laid across her like a blanket. His fingers find the holes in her clothing where the president's knife cut through. He pushes the fabric around, but the skin underneath is smooth with only the slightest blemish marring her skin.

Relief floods Link in an awesome wave.

Zelda is safe.

Another thought clicks around in his mind. Zelda was carrying their money last, so he checks her pocket. Sure enough, he's relieved to see the pouch wallet still there. Pulling it out, he opens it and the money is still there as well, appearing to be untouched and all accounted for. Thank the goddesses.

At least that's another thing safe.

As delicately as he can, Link rises from the floor of the box car and puts Zelda at rest on the duffel. She stirs some, but her exhaustion keeps her out. Blonde locks pool over the bag, and her chest rises and falls deeply. Poor girl, always looking so tired as of late.

He checks her core quickly. The rest she's gotten has allowed her to replenish her lost strength, though only a small amount. A good sign all the same, he nods to himself. He has hope that she'll be fine, she'll make it through. The vines have finally come to lower the guard around her core for the most part. She'll make it through. The wound has closed up, though not all the way healed, he's sure.

He'd left the door to the box car slightly cracked open, and the mechanical man peers out on the abandoned train yard. Farore's second saving grace.

Link had ditched the car miles back after reassuring himself that he wouldn't lose Zelda. He's still relieved to see that woman was holding up and pulling through. Farore's third saving grace… or would it be Nayru's? Considering his companion's patron goddess was Nayru…

With no muscles to grow tired, it wasn't all that difficult of a task for the machine to carry their belongings and Zelda over the distance. He isn't sure how long or how far from Route 59 that he'd taken them, but he hopes that the distance is far enough. With no muscles to grow tired, Link only stopped once when it occurred to him that he needed to keep the machine going.

For Link, coming across the train yard was a wonderful thing. He's glad that it's been abandoned, so they won't have to deal with any bulls coming round, ready to beat any drifter or hobo from hiding in the cars. Once settled in the car, he had stayed vigil in watching over Zelda as her blood dried and cracked on her skin. At some point, he'd shut off.

Link closes his eyes, wishing that maybe just for the moment, he'd be able to smell the fresh air, the rusty tracks and gears.

A new thought hits him. Why in the world did he dream of _that_? He remembers Ciela from the kitchens, of course, but he could not recall her face or hair. Now when he closes his eyes though, he can see the platinum tresses, her crystal eyes. He can even hear her voice, something he thought he'd long forgotten.

That cartographer, too… the one that went rogue after undergoing a surge. He hadn't thought of that fellow in ages, it seems.

Link drifts away from the box car's door to wait by Zelda's side, only occasionally getting up to check outside the car.

When Zelda wakes, her brow knits as she places a hand to her chest. "Are you okay?" Link asks her when her eyes full open and start to roam around.

His voice startles her some. Her hand clenches the fabric on her breast. "I didn't expect…" Zelda trails weakly. Her hand loosens its grip. She says with cracks in her voice, "Sorry, it's nothing. I'm just imagining things."

Zelda looks around the dark the box car, taking in all the shadows and textures of their current safe haven. She groans a little, a hand over where her wound had been, when she sits up. Link's at her side in a moment, saying, "Hey, take it easy. You got stabbed."

"Wha-what?" she manages as Link helps prop herself up against the car's walls. "Where are we?"

Link blinks.

"You don't remember?" he asks after a pause.

All Zelda can recall is being in the orchard, the black vehicle pulling up on the route. She thinks she saw the president, but she laughs a little. That has to be impossible, has to be something from her imagination. Right? Eyes wide, she looks to Link for confirmation, and he hesitates.

"Zelda… you were stabbed. By the president."

The soft smile on her lips falters a little, and she considers it a joke. But Link doesn't smile back at her, doesn't crack a joke, doesn't even chuckle. The stony look he gives her makes her face fall.

"No way," she says. "That's stupid."

"It's not!" he insists. "You'd be dead if you weren't able to heal yourself!"

His face brightens a little when he recalls it. He says quickly, "Look, look! I got shot, remember?" He shows her the holes in his shirt and body the bullet formed when it blasted through him. "See?"

This seems to stun the blonde. Her eyes dart to where the knife wound was, and her fingers graze over the puffy scar. She'd been stabbed. And by the president of all people! Something seems to click in her mind, and her other hand goes to her breast, right above her core. "I didn't do that," she whispers. "_She_ did. It must have been her." Zelda's eyes roll to meet Link's.

She? She did that?

"She said it wasn't my time," says Zelda, "that she wouldn't let me go so soon.

"I don't know any healing magic, Link."

Link curses silently to himself. Once again, he finds himself debating, doubting. Is Zelda one or two?

**…**

Cole Malladus is in a rush. His train is set to leave in about an hour, and instead of making his way to the station, he is sitting in his office ripping apart files haphazardly. Nayru, how could he be so _stupid_?

He was taking a second look at the sketches that man and woman from the Lost Woods, when he realized that the man, whom he was so sure was Link Coutts, he had seen somewhere else. He is currently tearing apart boxes of paraphernalia and other curiosities from a carnival his men had burned down months back. Some of the recovered items were from a fortune teller's tent and wagon that have some strange magical properties to them, but are not overly complicated. Flyers and posters were also taken for souvenirs from the carnival and stored in mat frames for safe keeping which Malladus begins to look through.

Malladus grimaces when he comes across a slightly charred poster of the Lizalfos Man. What a freak. Nobody in their right mind would voluntarily tattoo their body entirely in reptilian scales. He flicks through a few more. The Evelyn Sisters, the conjoined twins joined at the torso. There's one for a trio of acrobats. He stops his flurried search when he comes across the Coin-Operated Boy, still in good condition. He pulls the poster out from the stack of them.

Now this is peculiar.

Malladus flips open the book he'd stuck the sketch of the man in, and compares the poster to the portrait of the knight Sir Raven and the sketch.

And suddenly, it all makes sense.

The telephone begins to ring, causing Malladus to jump slightly. Jerked from his thoughts, he sets the matted poster down and answers the call, "Cole Malladus." The book slaps shut, encasing the sketches once again.

"Oh good," the president purrs on the other end of the line, "you haven't left yet. When is your train set to depart anyway?"

"Ten," Malladus says, glancing at his wristwatch. His obsessive search already put him behind schedule, and he is sure that the president may just make him miss the damn train altogether. "Will this take long?"

He hears President Ghirahim snort. "Tell me, do you know anything at all about a Ravio and Hilda? I don't have surnames, but I sent you a file about them."

"Sorry?"

"The drifters in the Lost Woods," Ghirahim snaps. "I had a very interesting run-in with them late this afternoon."

"Sorry, I told you that I don't know anything about that. I'll let you-"

"Yes, yes," the president drawls with impatience. "Let me know if anything comes up about them. I want them destroyed. Not just dead, do you understand?

"And on that note, I trust that you'll hand the little issue out in the desert? We can't have that spreading to Lanayru."

"If you keep me on the line any longer, I won't."

"Don't disappoint." With that the line goes dead, and Malladus slams the handset down on the receiver.

He's about to stride out of his office when he realizes his foolish mistake. He must be a fool indeed if he thinks that the president will just let this whole thing about the drifters go with the click of the phone. The Coin-Operated Boy poster is ripped from its matte backing, and he throws the now empty matte on top of the stack of posters from the carnival. If anything, it could be argued that the extra, blank matte was just protecting the top of the stack. He doubts any real questions will arise from the blank matte that once housed Link Coutts' poster.

Malladus, damning any sort of hope of making his train, makes sure that all the carnival oddities are back in storage where they belong with not a thing out of place. Or so he hopes. Prays. When he strides back into his office, he makes a beeline for the book with the sketches still tucked inside. The book is tossed into his trunk, and Cole Malladus rolls up the poster of the Coin-Operated Boy. He will leave nothing.

The beggars have gotten worse as of late, and as Malladus walks down the street, he passes several bums with tin cups for change. Some bother him for a small coin or two, but he pays them no mind as he hurries to the station. Others are trying to catch some sleep in tattered clothes and worn blankets. Halfway to the station, a group of them are gathered around a steel trash bin filled with debris and flames to help keep them warm during the cold night.

Malladus decides to feed their fire. He breaks through the circle around the trash bin and jams the poster of Link Coutts into the flames.

The bums don't say anything.

Cole Malladus misses his train.

He buys a ticket for the next one.

* * *

><p>Look at me, posting on a Monday. Such a rebel.<p>

I'm currently in between projects at the moment, but I really need to get a start on the next one. Hm-hm. Love those forms. Either way, I was able to finish this, and work on a novel and the next two Zelda stories I concocted a while back.

SO TAKE THIS. TAKE IT AND ENJOY IT.

Also, a while ago, my brother and I found this band called Nine Treasures. Freaking awesome. They're a Mongolian folk metal band. Yeah, let that sink in for a moment.

Drop a word! I'll catch you guys on the flip side! (And I'm sorry for not replying lately!)

:x


	19. I Can't Navigate Stars like My Father

Coin-Operated

19.0

I Can't Navigate the Stars like My Father

I was young when war broke out on a massive scale. Too young to help work in the factories like other patriotic young women, but old enough to understand the consequences of such an atrocity. Men were shipped out to sea to help defend the islands of the Republic. Others were sent to barren landscapes in hopes of advancing a stalemate. Propaganda flooded the radios, newspapers and streets blaming Holodrum and Labrynna as the main aggressors, calling for all civilians to do their civic duty and join the cause, or if they couldn't, do what they could on the home front. Some men, much like Link who lives off the grid, avoided the draft. My father was one of the men drafted and served on the front lines along the desert border between Hyrule and Calatia, and eventually was sent into Calatia itself. He wrote letters to my mother and me, though it pains me to admit, I have no idea what happened to them. They disappeared with my mother.

In the cities and the warfronts, outbreaks of consumption hit the populations of civilians and soldiers. I can recall nurses in their sterile white uniforms flooding the urban areas. People wore paper masks over their noses and mouths, myself included. The children at school alienated one another when one started coughing. My mother, fearing for our health, decided that we would move when she found herself coughing one morning. She wrote back to my father, stating we were going to leave Castleton for Lanayru's rural fields. The fresh country air was supposed to do her health some good, and for a time, it seemed as it would.

This was when I met Malon, who was more than just fascinated with my uncontrollable magical abilities. My mother worked with a few other migrants or men who couldn't be drafted on the ranch. Production was at an all-time high everywhere. Supplies needed to be sent to our troops abroad, and we even helped supply some Calatian men. Though we were young, Malon and I tried our best to help out where we could to meet the never-ending demand for goods.

It stayed this way for a while, and eventually, my mother fell ill. It started with the coughing that seemed to have gone away, but it came back with a vengeance. She passed it off for a week, and then another. I watched, unable to help, as my mother deteriorated. Unable to work, she was bedridden due to the chest pains. I remember how tired she was. The other ranch hands avoided her as much as possible in fear of catching the disease themselves, though they each offered their own remedies for treatment.

Malon stayed by me.

She held my hand the morning I found my mother dead.

Until we claimed victory alongside Calatia and the Isles, Malon was next to me.

After my mother passed and the war ended, my father took me back to the city. War and the loss of my mother left him as nothing but an empty husk of a man. Shell shock. He was still fairly young after the war, though he was in that strange in between of middle-age and youthful recklessness. If he heard the neighbor's whisperings, he didn't seem to pay them much mind. He got up and went to work, empty. Neighbors wondered why he didn't go out more, maybe find a nice woman to date. They'd look my way, but I never had an opinion on the matter since I, too, was left numb. Deep down, I knew the atrocities of war was what left my father dead inside.

If my magic went haywire, he no longer scolded me. He would not even attempt to help me learn how to control it, so I struggled by myself.

Malon wrote me often.

I rarely replied back.

My father denounced the goddesses, but I found my way back to them. I felt I had nowhere left to turn, and so I went to temple once a week. My father didn't try to stop me, and I was grateful he never expressed any opinion at all on the matter. He remained stoic as I left our flat each week for temple.

I prayed for my father, my mother, for Malon, and myself most of all. The priest was a pot-bellied man who helped answer some of those prayers. He devoted his time in helping me keep myself under control, be more…_ normal_. While I am capable of a few different types of magic, water always came easiest to me. It was my favorite of all magic, but I had locked it away. I tried to pretend that I didn't have magic, and after I did so, I saw changes in the people around me. People who were unaware of my abilities did not shut me out, and opportunities began opening for me, all at the cost of denying a very large part of myself.

Since they were blamed as the biggest aggressors during the war, it was up to Holodrum and Labrynna to pay the war reparations. Some responsibility also fell on Termina, but not to the same extent. Of course, torn apart from battle, the states were unable to pay up, leaving the victors high and dry. Hyrule broke down with my father and me.

It seems so improbable, so bizarre, that the very man that gave us so much hope is the same one that plunged a knife into my abdomen.

There's still a dull pain in my side, but it's nothing too unbearable.

I lean my head onto Link's shoulder, but I'm sure he does not notice. The accordion wails in harmonizing tones, the only thing audible besides the rattling of the train car as we shoot down the rails. Link's fingers dance across the keys. Link clicks one switch, and the voices change. This one is bright and flighty. There's no mistaking the melody that his fingers trill out, and I reflect that there is possibly no better suited instrument for Link who has no nerves and no breath.

I'm not really sure where we're headed, but we're heading west, and there will apparently be a stop in Mayscore, a town north of Castleton. We followed the old overgrown tacks from the yard when I was ready until we got to a fork where one rail was still being used. The first train that we were able to catch, we climbed aboard and did it with the help of the young man – Ferrus, I think - that sits napping on the other side of the car with his belongings on his lap, pictobox equipment mostly. He claims the train is on its way for supply pick up, and we have an agreement to wake him up before the stop.

The door is cracked open, so we can see the landscape rushing by. We're in open field now, and the northern mountains of Snowpeak are visible. Yellowed fields of grass wave in the wind.

The sunlight that sneaks into the boxcar shines on the chalk drawings on the floor of the car that Ferrus made. Little, simple pictures explained a great deal, and Ferrus explained the basics of them to us before he drifted off to sleep. The pictographer advised that if we're going to wander about, that we should look for them on the edges of properties. One symbol tells of vicious dogs on a property. Another where the food is good and plentiful. Two others tell if the people are dishonest or well-meaning.

The accordion stops when Link loses his inspiration. It whines when he compresses the bellows one final time, and I move so he can slide it off. Ferrus still snoozes in his corner as Link rises to put the accordion away.

"Tired?" he asks, taking his place again and ruffling my hair.

"No, just thinking."

"Your hair's gotten long."

I hum.

I say, "I was thinking about my father."

"Yeah? What was he like?"

"I dunno. After the war, he just wasn't the same. He came back shell shocked." Link looks down at me, and when I meet his eyes, we come to a silent understanding. Though my father was physically there, he was completely unavailable, so I was left alone. This is one of those fundamental kinships with Link that I don't like admitting to. "Before the war, he was angry if I let my magic go wild, then after, he just seemed to stop caring. Well, about everything."

Ferrus eventually wakes on his own without our help. He yawns widely and rubs his eye. The young pictographer asks if a stop's been made yet, and we tell him that there hasn't. "We should jump ship when the train starts to slow," he tells us, another yawn forcing its way out.

Link looks to me. "I'll jump first," he volunteers. "You can throw me all the stuff." The offer extends to Ferrus, who glances down at his things. He nods in agreement, though a little reluctantly.

So we wait. The fields of Lanayru slip by as the train chugs down the track. Ferrus leans out the car when we think we're beginning to slow. He calls to us over the rattle in the car. "The yard's in sight!" Link pops up from his spot on the floor and pokes his head out of the boxcar as well. He nods for me, and I drag our things over. Ferrus asks over the train's wailing screech as the brakes start to weigh down the train's speed, "Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine," Link promises, and he takes our duffel from me. "Ferrus's things first." He throws our duffel out from the train and jumps out after it. Link takes the brunt of the impact from the jump by rolling away from the car, but he's quick to get to his feet and takes off after the car. He lags behind the boxcar door, but thank Din for mechanical legs, else he'd be long left behind.

When Ferrus hesitates to throw Link his belongings, I take his bags from him and toss them out the car myself. Link manages to catch them, but Ferrus still winces when Link drops them unceremoniously onto the ground. The last thing off besides Ferus and me is the accordion, which Link barely gets a hold on.

"Ready?" I ask the pictographer, but I can't help the flutter of butterflies in my gut. Link has stopped running after the car, and he's instead running back for our duffel and Ferrus' bags.

I take the leap first. Pain shoots through my hip and leg as I roll away from the chugging train. A sharp, needling flash of pain rackets through when I try to get up, so I stay down, watching as Ferrus find his courage and hops out from the car.

The pictographer makes it out alright, though he walks stiffly over to me. "Are you alright?" he calls.

"Give me a minute!" I cry.

It feels as if Link is back by my side in no time, and I am reassuring them both that I just landed a little funny. They wait until I can get up again, and the three of us head towards Mayscore, careful of any bulls waiting to take down trespassers in the train yards. Though each step is almost excruciating, I push through and just try to keep my weight on my other foot.

Once into town, we say our goodbyes to Ferrus, who thanks us. "Why's he thanking us?" Link asks, confused, as we stare at the pictographer's retreating form.

I shrug and try not to dwell on it too much. It's just another thing I've learned about being a drifter. We meet and see so many faces that not all can always stay with us. It's possible we might run into Ferrus again, or maybe even see his pictographs in a gallery or the newspaper somewhere down the line, but only Nayru knows for sure. We might not see him at all ever again.

Link suggests panhandling until we can afford or figure out a way out of town.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Link asks again. "You're limping."

I sigh and tell him that it's my ankle that's bothering me the most. "Maybe I sprained it," I offer. "I don't know." It's hard to ignore each shoot of pain that goes up my leg with every step though.

Link stops walking and sets the duffel on my shoulder. "I'll carry you then," he says, letting me piggyback.

"How much money we got?"

"Enough" is all he says.

"Food and a room?"

"Enough."

"Will you still have some seed money?"

He doesn't respond.

"I'd rather eat than have a room," I say.

Link suggests, "Or we could find someone generous enough."

I hum and let my head rest in the crook of his neck. "Hey, just rest, yeah?" he says to me, and I hum my agreement again. My eyes droop shut.

…

There are hushed whispers when I wake again. My hands find a crocheted blanket draped over me, and I prop myself up on one arm to take in the room around me. It registers that they're talking about someone, but it's not about me. I'm in a den that's moderately furnished, lying on a somewhat lumpy sofa. Pictographs line the walls over worn wallpaper and the fireplace mantle. Little knicknacks are displayed on the bookcase with a moderate collection of novels. A radio sits in one corner of the room in prominent display. To warm the worn hardwood floors, a large hooked rug takes up the center of the room.

My ankle feels sore but no longer painful. I feel a small tug at my core, and bringing my eyes inward, I can see blue and gold strands reaching out. She's helped me heal again. I close my eyes, seeing her serene face smiling brightly at me from under the willow. I am not alone. I am never alone, so long as the great queen is looking out for me. There's a surge of warmth that rushes through my core, and I feel her agreement. She is watching me, just as she promised she would. Her and all the rest that came before us.

I have to wonder then – what is it that we are?

Pushing the thoughts aside, I sit up on the sofa, casting aside the worn blanket and look around the room for the direction of the voices. There are two exits - one leading towards the back of the house, and the other out into a foyer. The voices are coming from a kitchen, where a clattering of tools erupt and an herby, meaty scent wafts out into the den and the rest of the house. There's a gurgle from my stomach, and my mouth salivates from the smell. I feel the slight pounding of a headache, which is probably the result from the lack of food.

With somewhat unsteady feet, I walk into the kitchen, thankful that each step is no longer painful. Two women speak in hushed tones at the stove and counter, chopping up vegetables for a hearty stew. One of them, the one stirring the stew, turns around, and surprise flits across her face. "Oh!" she exclaims. "You're awake! How is your ankle?" She pulls me over to the table as I mumble that it's fine. "Your companion was worried that you'd twisted it or the like. He's out back working on chopping wood with my husband right now."

"We should keep him," toots the other woman.

"Shush, Maribelle," says the first, wiping her hands on her apron.

Maribelle shrugs, smiling to herself as she goes back to chopping. Her hair is pulled up in a loose bun. She's fairly young, maybe around my age. The first woman is older. Grey hairs color her auburn hair, and the slight lines of wrinkles are in her face. She crosses the kitchen and starts to unload some dishes from the cabinet and set them out on the table.

Maribelle pipes up again. "In all seriousness though, he's a good worker," she says to the other woman.

"We can't afford to pay him."

"Just give him meals and board. Right, ma'am?" she says, turning to look at me. "What's his name? I never got it."

I almost tell her his name, but my voice dies before it can leave my lips. The memories of the president advancing on us in the orchard flicker across my mind's eye. I have to think on it. What was it? "Ravio," I say.

"Ravio?" Maribelle mutters to herself as she dumps the last of the chopped vegetables into the stew. "What a weird name. No surname?"

"… Not that I know of."

"Are you any good at sewing?" the first woman asks.

I shake my head. "Sorry, but no."

Maribelle wipes her hands on her apron, turning on the wife. "Oh, come off it," she snaps at the woman. "That lad has done more than enough work to cover the both of them."

The wife scowls at Maribelle. "Go tell them to wash up so they can eat," the woman instructs. Maribelle rolls her eyes and strides out of the house.

"Are you sure your ankle is fine?" the wife asks me.

"It's a bit sore still," I admit. "But it should be alright with some more rest."

She nods. The woman takes a bowl and fills it with the stew for me. I'm also granted a glass of milk. I savor every bite of the stew, the warmth filling my belly. Maribelle enters the kitchen with Link and another man in tow. He towers over Link in height and size, making me feel incredibly insignificant in comparison. Maybe the man is of Goron descent, I wonder, because he certainly can rival Darunia in size.

Oh goddesses, we should call them.

"Ravio," I call, and Link's eyebrows raise slightly at the name. He glances at the others in the room and takes the chair next to me. "The stew's delicious," I tell him in between mouthfuls. Dear Farore, I don't think anything has ever tasted this good. "Are you hungry?"

"No," he says slowly.

Maribelle is on him in a flash, and her pushy personality reminds me of Ruto. It sends a slight sting to my heart to think about her. Quickly, I have to form a block on thoughts of Ruto and Malon, lest I wish to start wailing at the table. "You've been at it all day!" Maribelle exclaims. She ladles a bowl of stew for the husband, who seats himself from across the table and spreads open the paper in front of him with one hand, effectively shielding himself from everyone else. She demands, "Don't be shy, have a bowl."

"Ah…" Link glances at me. "Maybe later," he says. "I just feel like maybe taking a nap for right now."

"Leave him alone, Maribelle," the wife snaps.

"It'll be cold later!" the younger woman protests. The husband grunts from behind his paper, and Maribelle claps her mouth shut.

The young woman notices my empty bowl, and she takes it from me. "Here, I'll get you another to take up with you, and you can eat it when you get hungry, Ravio," she says.

Link glances at me. "Um, thank you," he says softly, making Maribelle beam.

He accepts the bowl from her and leads me out of the kitchen, Maribelle calling after us, "Last room on the left!"

"So… how's your ankle, Hilda?" he asks, humor in his synthetic voice as we head up the stairs to the second floor of the house.

"Better," I say. "It's still a bit sore though."

He nods and says nothing more until we're in the safety of our room.

"Where are we?" I ask the second the door shuts behind him. I flop onto the bed.

"We're still in Mayscore, just on the outskirts," Link says as he sets the bowl of stew on the nightstand for me to eat. He seats himself next to me on the bed, the springs groaning under our weight, and I giggle some.

"What?" he asks.

Sitting up, I crawl further onto the bed, each bit of movement making the springs squeak. I shrug. "I dunno. It's just funny," I say. "The springs need to be oiled."

"Listen, Zelda," Link says, suddenly serious. "We should go west. To the desert, I mean."

"Why?" I ask, frowning.

Link's mouth thins. He doesn't say anything for a bit, which makes me suspicious. He's trying to think of what to tell me – _how_ to tell me – and that grates on me. "Don't try and trick me," I snap at him, which surprises him. Glass eyes wide, he stares at me.

He chuckles some, turning away again. "There are book burnings going on in the desert, and they're all in one hell of a mess over it right now," Link tells me. "I was reading it in the paper this morning."

"I've been out that long?" I ask in wonder.

I gasp a little. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"No breakfast, no lunch-"

He laughs, "Don't worry about it. We've only been here since around noon.

"Anyway," he continues, "guess who's name was in it?"

Venom lacing the way it spits out of my mouth, I say automatically, "Ghirahim," making Link laugh again.

"Well, yes," he says, "but I wasn't thinking of him. He's always going to be in the paper. The article mentioned that Cole Malladus was overseeing the chaos out there." He adds, talking about the husband downstairs, "I'd show it to you, but he's reading it at the table right now."

The realization hits me. "You don't think it's him, do you?"

"Who knows?" he says, excited. Then he gets a look at my face, and all that excitement dies in an instant. "What?"

"What good will it do?"

"I- I don't know!" he exclaims, flying up from the bed. "I haven't seen that rat bastard in how many centuries? It's a place to start. I'm tired of this, Zelda!"

"You'll never get your body back, though," I remind him. "It's long since been disposed of."

He groans, frustrated. "I know, I know," he says. "But at least I can sock him one, yeah?

"I feel like-" he hesitates, and silently, I try to coax him on. The bed whines as he sits down again. "I never said anything, but lately I've felt that maybe I could be human again. I don't know why." He looks almost ashamed admitting this. "I know it seems silly, but if magic got me here, why can't it be reversed?"

Because his body doesn't exist anymore. If he can't use that body, then whose does he get to use? It's certainly not fair to whatever chap that ends up being, and it just perpetuates the cycle created by Malladus.

I sigh, sinking into the pillows that rest against the headboard. I've lost track of how long we've been wandering – it feels like a whole lifetime has gone by since we've met. There's been no purpose though. No true rhyme or reason. We've been flitting wherever in the hopes that we can forever remain anonymous, out the eyes and suspicion of those that seek to oust magic. All we've been doing is playing a game of cat and mouse, and being the mouse isn't how I want to live for the rest of my life.

"Let's do it then," I say.

"Really?"

"How are we supposed to get there though? We can't take a train," I point out. "They search every passenger and the luggage that goes through for magic. They'd pick you out in a flash."

"I'll figure it out," Link promises me. The words tumble out of his mouth so fast, I know he's been thinking about it all day. "We can stay here for only a few days, so long as I help with the work, and they might have you do chores once you're up to it."

There's a tiny prick of dread, but I remind myself that there's not much else to lose. In fact, now we have a goal. A clear one. No more pointless wandering just trying to stay alive. My hand goes to my chest in reassurance, and I feel the bundled scarf the queen gave me. She is with us.

The real question for me: How much am I willing to risk on this?

* * *

><p>I seriously could not write this chapter. I have no idea why. I was able to write beyond it, but just not this. It was almost torture trying to get this out. I work two jobs and still do school, so I was able to sit down at the office and finish this up. Working every day now, so I don't have a lot of time, and I unknowingly got a promotion last week at the restaurant. I'm dead serious. I walked in and my time slip said that I was a manager, not a cook. <em>How do you forget to mention that?<em>

It's more money, obviously, so I got that going for me. In the meantime, I'm hoping maybe to update again during the holidays since the next chapter is a good way done. After that it's tax season though, which means fitting an eight day work week in seven. Augh. In the meantime, I had started _Between the Devil and the Deep Sea_, which is nowhere near as long as this, so I'm hoping to finish that up as well.

Anyway, drop a word! I like hearing from you guys, whether you love it, hate it. Gives me something to think about moving forward.

Edit: Silly me, uploaded an older draft. Ugh, sorry.

:D


	20. I Dissolve in Trust

Coin-Operated

20.0

I Dissolve in Trust

Cole Malladus turns the Calatian book over in his hands. This one simple book has the whole West in an uproar? Honestly. One would think the desert dwellers were brutes of some sort – well, that irksome Ghirahim sure thinks so. With a long sigh, Malladus falls back into his chair, tossing the book onto his desk.

_The Book of Mudora_.

What kind of title was _that_ anyway?

It isn't just some ordinary book though. It's a book full of old lore that's been passed down for generations now. As he had flipped through the book, Malladus recognized many of the stories for he's heard them for many, many years now. Some of the stories differ from the first time he'd heard them, however, but he supposes that is to be expected when things are passed on orally.

It's a dangerous book by Ghirahim's standards.

Tales of conquest by heroes of great strength and skill… tales in which magic is interwoven. Like the old story of the Moon. An evil mask possessing a child threatened to bring the moon crashing into the earth. It's a feat preposterous by any other means but magic.

The desert dwellers' protests over the book burnings have gotten so violent, he actually had to call in the Guard to contain them. He scowls at that fact. Ghirahim _would_ give him the shit job to do. It's just his style.

Cole Malladus glances at the phone on his desk, sitting innocently in the corner. It watches him with careful innocence, knowing when to speak and when to stay silent. He considers picking up the receiver and making a call, but decides against it.

He rises from his chair and grabs his jacket. He'll go and get a drink. Maybe bring back to his room some whore. Maybe even slit her throat. It puts a little bounce in his step, at the very least.

**…**

Fate has ripped her from him.

Link looks about him as Hyrulean soldiers prepare to break the caste's last defense with a battering ram. Archers from above them set arrows aflame and fire at will down on the Hyruleans. A mist hangs in the air, and Link knows that rain is coming. Through the dirt, grime and blood that splatters his face and hair, he throws his head back to look up at the darkening sky. Maybe the goddesses wish to weep with him but are holding back.

Nobody knows she's gone.

He doesn't dare say anything.

Morale is at its highest since they started the siege. Days of slow progress has been building up to this point where Hyrule's forces can finally storm the castle interior. Men are gleeful, hurrying towards the cracking gate to be part of the first wave to crash through. Their voices roar above the battle as they charge forward.

Link had lost his helmet at some point.

A hand claps his shoulder. "Come on, lad," a gruff voice calls to him from within the helmet of the knight looming over him. "He's gone, and the castle's about to fall. We need all hands."

Another figure enters Link's periphery. "Oi, come on! The gate's about to break!" He flips his visor up and takes a long look at Link, motionless and catatonic in the middle of a battlefield and clutching the body of a dead knight in his arms. "Wha's wit' you? First time in combat?" he asks, eyeing the body.

"Just leave him," says the first. And the two men head off to join the party forcing its way into the Calatian castle.

He's not sure how long he stays where is. Some other knights try to rouse him, but they all eventually leave him to join their comrades as they take the castle keep. The roars of the battle is just white noise to Link, who is lost in the grey, stormy clouds.

Finally, Link feels the first droplet on his cheek. Then his forehead. Only then does he allow the building tears in his eyes escape. Colin finds him then wailing in the middle of the battlefield, surrounded by the dead. "Milor-" the squire calls, but he is cut short by the sight of his master. Link curls himself over, shielding the body in his arms from the coming rain. The move does nothing to silence his lament.

She'd grabbed another knight's helmet after he'd fallen and placed it over her own. With the helmet, she was indistinguishable from the rest, and it was only pure luck on a Calatian archer to land such a hit.

Colin reaches a hesitant hand out to the deceased's helm. His fingers hook under the metal, and when he sees that Link won't shove his hand away, his breath catches in his throat. Slowly, he pries the helmet off, and her pale face is revealed. The squire sinks onto the muddied ground, patches of grass kicked up from the clashing armies, as the rain spatters her face. The squire finds himself unable to look away from her glassy eyes.

Colin chokes a little.

The castle is theirs, but at a great price.

The squire stays by his knight master's side all the way back to court. The service is lavish, and the chorus sings heavenly laments in her name as the lid to her casket is closed. Flowers cover almost every inch of the temple, brought forth from all the people crowded in to mourn her. Everything is suitable for a woman of her stature. Link stands at the ready as one of her pallbearers. Stone faced among the mourners, Link helps carry the casket out of the temple to her final resting place. His tears have long since run dry.

Colin only meets his master again in the graveyard long after the service has ended and the crowds have dispersed. It took days and days before the cemetery was blocked off to the public, and in their wake are the hundreds of flowers from the temple and trinkets left by the people as a token for their lost monarch. The squire's footsteps echo inside the deep mausoleum. Torches still burn along the walls illuminating his master as he stares blankly at the fresh etchings on the wall. Calloused fingers slide across the fresh cut stone, tracing each line that forms her name. He never thought he'd outlive two monarchs.

The boy clears his throat, but his master doesn't acknowledge him. "Milord?" he calls.

Link's head turns, but just barely. He says, "Colin, I've just sent out a letter."

"A letter?"

"Yes," Link breathes, letting his fingers fall from his lost love's name.

"To whom?"

His master heaves a heavy sigh. "I know how hard it can be to find someone to study under-"

"But sir!"

"Don't interrupt!" Link roars, finally turning to face his squire. Since the battle, his temper has been on a short lease, and he is quick to snap. His face softens at the fear written across the boy's face. "I wrote… I've written a letter to Sir Valenzuela," he says, much more gently this time. The knight rubs his eyes. It's a small attempt at shielding himself from the world. "I don't expect to receive a response for some time, but I am sure he will be willing to take you on as his squire."

"But…"

"Colin," Link sighs again. "I'm going to return to Ordon. Alone."

"I can come with you!"

Link shakes his head. "No," he says firmly. "Not this time. You and I will remain at court until I get word from Valenzuela. After that, should he accept, you will be his charge, not mine, and I will leave for Ordon.

"There is something strange in those woods that Her Majesty was after, and I intend to figure out those woods and find that anomaly." Yes, one that has attracted hordes of beasts, such as the Ghoma. The pale face of the cartographer who suffered from a surge comes to mind as well. Something is out there, and Link intends to snuff it out.

"I don't understand though!" his squire cries. "Why are you sending me away?"  
>"I can't be who I was," Link seethes, and he claps his hands onto his squire's shoulders. His eyes flick around in the dimly lit crypt. "And I certainly can't stay here. I'd like for you to understand one day, but I also do not wish this upon you at the same time."<p>

Without another word, Link leaves the crypt.

**…**

Wine sloshes in the glass, the dark ruby liquid almost glowing under the light. The sterling silver fork and knife cut away at the food on the plate. He eats alone, stewing over his current predicament. The sickly grey tongue jets out from his mouth and slides over his lips.

The president must consider the possibility of fake names, but what's the likelihood they'll have the same names as those two wretched beings from the sky? He considers the many lifetimes that have passed since the Sky's victory over him.

One finger taps the dark mahogany table top.

Ghirahim needs the sword – it's the final piece. His initial hope was to recover it through the ban on magic, but nothing has turned up. It must have been put back to rest in the last few centuries – Cole Malladus swears he held the blade in his hands after the fall of the Harkinian monarchy. The question now then is who put it back? Certainly not the Hero, for Malladus stole that incarnation's flesh.

Probably the most annoying part is waiting while his task force combs the Lost Woods. Those with magic are the only ones that have any sort of hope of navigating that twisting labyrinth, but the searches haven't turned up anything remotely what the president is looking for, and it makes Ghirahim's blood boil.

The sword, the president tells himself, will show itself in due time. However, Ravio and Hilda are a problem he can deal with for now. Wherever they're hiding, he vows, he'll wiggle them out and eliminate them. They got the best of him the last time around, but this time – oh, this time – he'll rip everything out right from under their feet.

The president rises from his chair and crosses the room to the telephone. Gloved fingers lift the receiver, and President Ghirahim turns the dial.

**…**

He freezes. The bed squeaks with the sudden movement, and his eyes rove around the dark room. He blinks. He can see the stars blinking back at him through the window. The curve of the curtains and the lacy valance. Then there's the ceiling, and his feet on the bed. The dark shapes of the furniture in the room – a dresser, a chair, a table. His eyes rove everywhere in the darkness, processing the strange shapes.

He can hear the heavy winds outside and the way the house creaks from it, but there's nothing else. No one else in the house but him goes bump in the night.

Link has turned himself on again.

He knows this, because next to him on the bed is Zelda, soundly asleep under the covers just like everyone else in the house.

Link thinks to himself how long her hair has gotten, how dark the circles under her eyes have become. She looked a bit hollow when they first met, but not like this, and a streak of guilt runs through him. Careful not to wake her, he reaches over to her, and his fingers make contact with her skin.

If he could breathe, the air would choke him.

The skin of her cheek is just so _smooth_. And- and _soft_. Every little ridge the tug of his finger makes slides under the pad of his finger as he drags it down her face. She sniffles a little. Link's fascination doesn't wane. His finger falls off the point of her chin.

He runs his hand over the quilt, trying to feel each thread that punctures the fabric, but there's nothing.

Zelda rolls away from him.

Warmth seeps through his core.

If he could weep, he would. It's her. Caressing the deepest part of him is her, he's so sure. She gives his core a comforting squeeze of reassurance. He curls in on himself, the mattress squeaking beneath him.

He misses her, by the goddesses!

This thought brings him pause, however.

Is she the one that's turning him on? Starting up his system whenever she pleases? His eyes dart to Zelda in the dark, lying sound asleep. He feels a strange string of guilt worm its way through.

**…**

After the long day's work, Link slips back into the bedroom, where Zelda has already eaten his dinner for him. She sits on the bed against the headboard, hidden behind a newspaper. The dishes for his dinner sit on the nightstand. He smiles at her when the newspaper in her hands falls to her lap. "We'll leave tomorrow night, how's that sound?" he asks her as he sits down next to her.

After a good wash, her hair is shining and bright, loosely curling around her shoulders. Her skin is clean and glowing, finally free from the layer of dirt that had covered it for so long. She'd been able to help with the laundry, and he's sure if he could smell, the fresh scent of their clean clothing would meet him. The most pleasing thing to Link though is that her eyes don't have the dark circles anymore – they're still there, but not as pronounced, and it's a welcome improvement.

She asks him, "And we'll get to the desert how?"

"Hitchhike, by the looks of it."

Zelda frowns at him.

"Oh come on, it's not _so_ bad," he pleads. "Besides, even if we could afford train tickets, I'd get picked out during inspection." She sighs, knowing him right, and turns her attention back to the newspaper in her lap.

One curl hugs the curve of her cheek, and he stares fixated on the one lock. Each twisting and turn of blonde strands shines under the lamp on the nightstand. Instinct and drive overtake him.

Her hair is so silky when he runs his fingers through it, mesmerized by the texture. "What?" she half laughs, pulling away from him. The blonde locks slip away from his hand. "You'll ruin my curls."

"Nothing," he chides. "Your hair is just…" he hesitates, unsure if he should disclose anything to her. Link settles on "so long" in the end.

"It has gotten long, hasn't it?" Zelda says, turning away from him to look at herself in the mirror on the dresser. "I don't even really have bangs anymore, do I?"

"I could cut it," he offers, surprising not only Zelda, but himself.

She holds up one lock. "I suppose it needs at least a trim… huh?" muses Zelda as she eyes some of the knots and split ends that she holds in her hand. She sucks her bottom lip as she thinks it over. "Well, sure. Why not?

"Let's see…" she says to herself. Zelda starts opening up drawers and rooting through their contents.

"Are you sure that's okay?" Link asks.

"I'm just looking for some scissors," Zelda says dismissively. Eventually she finds a sewing kit. She turns the pair of scissors over in her hands. "It seems almost wrong when they're meant for fabric," she laughs a little.

"It should work," says Link taking the scissors from her as she peers out into the hall for any signs of the house's other occupants. Link can hear Maribelle and the wife arguing again down in the kitchen. Zelda rips the top sheet from the bed before tiptoeing across the way to the bathroom. "Here." He takes the chair that sits in one corner of the bedroom and drags it into the bathroom. After wetting her head under the tub's faucet, she sits down on the chair and drapes the sheet over her shoulders. "Think of everything, huh?"

"What's that?"

Link shakes his head.

She helps him comb her hair out, and she laughs at her reflection. "It really is long without the curls!"

He smiles to himself as she talks. Wondering about Ruto. About Malon. Wondering what her work is like now. "How short you want it?" he asks her.

"Huh? Oh." She blinks a bit at her reflection. "I don't know," she says, shrugging her shoulders. "I'll let you decide."

"Don't you complain after then," he warns her.

She giggles, almost like a child, and kicks her feet some.

Little by little, locks of blonde hair litter the floor. He gives her her bangs back, trying to snip them carefully in a straight line. It's weird – the way that the water makes her hair slick that is. She tells him he's not half-bad when he's close to finishing and that maybe he should consider becoming a barber. They laugh at that.

When he finishes, her hair is almost dry, curling up on itself again in loose locks and waves. His hands come to rest on her shoulders as they look into the mirror at themselves. Zelda's changed so much since their first meeting, but he – Link is still the same. Unchanged. Unmoving.

"You know what it looks like?" she laughs as she fingers her short bob cut. "It looks kind of like Ruto's hair. Don't you think?" There's a bit of darkness that creeps into her eyes when she says this.

"Oh?" he threatens, but she smiles brightly up at him. "Is that bad?"

"No." Her eyes fall back to her reflection. "It's perfect."

His hands slip from her shoulders, and he wraps his arms around her, bringing them cheek to cheek. Link relishes in the strange sensation that tingles through him from the contact. "Link?" she calls. There's hesitation in her voice. He gives a soft hum and turns his head, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you," she murmurs, closing her eyes.

"Mm-hm."

She places her hands on his arms – and by Din, are they warm.

* * *

><p>Originally, I wasn't going to use that flashbackdream/what-have-you, much like the one from earlier chapters of Link as a ragdoll and scarecrow. I have a few others, so some of them may crop back up - not sure yet. Actually, there are a lot of things in the last couple of chapters I didn't intend on including, but I'm glad I have so far.

The new job is more demanding than I thought it would be. I feel like I'm a professional babysitter, not running a restaurant. This is my last week in school, and then I'm off from that at least! The next chapter has been mostly done for a while now, but I'm a bit stuck, so I'll see how far I can get on it during my time off.

Also, thanks to everybody that's left comments, messaged me, favorited/followed this story so far! I know I don't always get to respond, but I do read everything, and I appreciate everything you guys have to suggest or say. I'm really surprised by it all.

Until next time! Peace!

:3


	21. Muscle to Muscle and Toe to Toe

Coin-Operated

21.0

Muscle to Muscle and Toe to Toe

Every step echoes in the dark passageways. The candle in his hand is almost burnt out, and the wick is close to being smothered by the hot wax pooling around it. Little dribbles of the wax slips down the side of the candle when he tips ever slightly off balance.

Link curses to himself, straining to see in the inky blackness. Which way goes where again? He's been lost in the interior passages of the castle for some time now. He's not sure how long it's been, but it's been a few hours at least. More often than not, when he's gone missing for such stretches of times, Her Majesty's Sheikah will seek him out and save him from the darkness. Silently, he prays that Sheik will find him sooner rather than later and lead him out of the twisting tunnels of the castle.

His breath catches in his throat. Footsteps from beyond reach his ears – most definitely not from Sheik searching him out. Hastily, the knight smothers the small flame and presses himself up against the wall of the passage. The soft taps of feet suddenly cease, and Link holds his breath, praying he hasn't been caught. Nayru knows there's enough snakes at court as it is, so he waits and his ears believe that the footsteps fade away – heading in another direction.

Minutes drag by. The silence buzzes in his ears, but Link remains patient. When he thinks at least a quarter of an hour has gone by, Link breathes easy. He fumbles around, blind in the dark, feeling for the wick of the candle in his hand. The charred piece accidentally breaks off when his finger finds it, and the knight silently curses at himself.

Fire magic is not his strong suit by far.

The knight is more adept with light, but he does not by far have Her Majesty's skill. He's seen her on several occasions now cast small spheres of light from just her hands.

He sighs to himself.

He might be better off trying to conjure up flames from nothing. The candle sits at his feet, forgotten, and Link begins trying to create some sort of light source to see from. Heat gathers in his fingertips. It tingles the pads of his fingers as he tries to snap it to life. Every now and again he gets a spark of a flame to ignite, but nothing sticks. The knight quickly grows frustrated with each failed attempt.

A giggle sounds in the dark.

Despite the heavy linen shirt, leather gloves and tunic he wears, gooseflesh runs across his covered arms. The hairs on the back of his neck spring up, and he waits, knowing he'd been seen.

He feels the tingling in his skin of his sixth sense telling him that the other presence in the passage is standing right next to. Link hardly dares to breathe, the air filling his lungs in desperate shallow gasps.

A flame bursts to life from petite hands, and the woman giggles again. Laughing at him. Before he can say anything, before he can exhale, before he can even feel the flood of relief at seeing that his night stalker in the passage is none other than the queen, the flame is extinguished, and she is on him like an animal.

Her lips mesh seamlessly to his, and he folds under her like crumpling paper. His boots scrape at the worn stone. The blood pounds in his ears, setting all his senses buzzing, when she crawls onto his lap, her legs straddling his hips. Her lips leave his, and he gasps for the air that she stole from him. Her teeth catch the sensitive skin of his neck. Painful pleasure shoots through him. His hands fumble in the dark with her heavy skirts to find the smooth skin of her thighs. Her hot breath in the crook of his neck is both welcoming and aggravating.

She pulls away suddenly, hands on his collar to keep the distance, just as soon as his fingers find her slick folds, bringing their heated passion to an abrupt end. He groans at whatever has her distracted, and she shushes him. His head smacks back against the wall. She shushes him again more forcibly when he half-moans-half-whines her name. Trying to quiet her heavy breaths, the air comes out of her shallow and ragged. Link leans forward and rests his forehead against her breast with one hand rubbing small circles on her thigh.

Shivers work their way up his arms and back when her fingers twist themselves in his hair.

A few minutes pass, and their breathing settles. She hisses to Link, "Someone's here," as she staggers to her feet, the heel of her slipper catching the hem of one of her skirts. Dimly, it registers that others at court really _do_ know about the passageways. A light smack to his skull is delivered when he pouts that she could live a little more dangerously. A ball of light blooms in one hand, illuminating her flushed cheeks. She whips around, and not waiting for him, takes off down the way he came. The knight drags himself up and after the queen in the dark, lustful eyes never leaving the chiaroscuro hourglass shape.

**…**

She jumps a little when his eyes click open and he looks around. Hand on her chest, Zelda gives a sigh of relief. "Din, you scared me," she laughs nervously. "I thought you'd turned off."

Link doesn't say anything as his false eyes swivel over to her. Moonlight gives her milky skin a strange blue glow to it. They're jostled a little in the bed of a pickup they'd hitched a ride from when it hits a pot hole in the dirt road. She looks at him funny, and Link knows for sure she's not playing him for a fool. He drags his eyes away from her, desperate to look at anything but her. She hadn't done anything to him, he _had_ turned off – he's sure of that.

There's not much to look at, however. The landscape is sparse with little vegetation, befitting of the desert. In the dark of night, the horizon is muddled, no clear indication of where the land ends and the sky starts. His eyes roll over the sky, but he can't focus enough to pick out any constellations or notable stars.

"Link?"

He doesn't answer. Instead, he pulls himself up and scoots back until his back is straight with the cab of the truck.

She stutters a bit when she speaks, tripping over her words in disbelief. "Did you just turn on…? By yourself?"

He looks at her once more, more grateful than he has ever been for this mechanical body. With glass spheres for eyes, the lust that surely would gloss them if they were real is very, very thankfully concealed.

"Start me up when we're close to stopping, love," he says, closing his eyes.

Oh, he turned on alright.

* * *

><p>Here's a shortie for today; it's another one of the flashback I had written. Next chapter is very Malladus-centric so far, and Ghirahim will probably make another appearance (he needs some face time, for reals though). I had originally started on that chapter last fall at the very latest. It was marked as chapter 16. Quite a bit's been added in, but I'm happy with that.<p>

I found out when I had like eight packages show up on my doorstep that my family's coming to visit. Haha. So I guess we're going to have another holiday filled with my siblings and me killing each other on Smash Bros. and playing our Mario Kart drinking game. You can't drink and drive, so you have to pull over, and you must finish the drink before the race ends. There are no winners. My brother claims he'll own us on Smash Bros. - "It'd be like putting Tyson in the ring with an infant."

We'll see, we'll see.

=:P


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